New Beauty
by CatJetRat
Summary: Harry Potter must defeat the Dark Lord, and to do that he must leave Hogwarts and go to Voldemort's home town. Along the way he runs into an old...rival. HPDM Slash, and HGSS het. Don't like don't read. Epilogue Up.
1. Visions of a Boy

**A/N: **Yes, yes, I know. I'm starting a new story when I haven't finished an old one. Crucify me, why don't you? I know you're all dying to find out who that girl is. At least, my friend Sarah is. And DON'T WORRY! I WILL finish 'Shadow of the Past'. I just need to correct a bunch of stuff. You know, change the beginning and whatnot. But I WILL do it. So chill. It'll just be on hiatus for a little bit, till I get around to changing it. Sorry, but Sophomore year at high school is a tad bit stressful, and it doesn't help that I failed Geometry and now my parents are pissed. My mom's even threatening to get me a tutor. Grr…. Sorry, unloading a bit. Onto the new story! This will be unbetaed at first, since I'm starved for reviews, but as soon as my beta gets it back to me I'll re-post it. I hope this hasn't become a cliché yet. Enjoy! And please, please review, or I might spontaneously combust. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_"I haven't got any options!" said Malfoy, and he was suddenly white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"—_ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Page 591, Paragraph 5

**Chapter One**

**Visions of a Boy**

**Normal POV**

_Harry gazed down coldly at the quivering boy at his feet. "You have had enough?" He said in an high-pitched, icy tone. He raised his wand again. "_Crucio!_" The boy screamed and arched his head back. His cloak fell off of his head, revealing white-blond hair and a pale, pointed face. _

_"Please—no more," Draco Malfoy croaked in a broken voice._

_"Then I shall end it?" Harry ask in a cruel, amused, inquisitive tone. He raised his wand once more. "_Avada—_"_

_"Excuse me, my Lord," said a silky voice._

_Harry paused and lowered his wand. "Yes, Severus?" He said to the man who had just stepped forward. His face was covered by a mask, but Harry knew him. He knew all of his death eaters' voices. _

_"I request that you allow him to live," Snape said._

_"And what is your reason for that?" Harry asked coolly. If any of his other death eaters had dared to question him they would be on the ground right beside the young Malfoy boy. However, he thought he could make an exception for the man who had killed Dumbledore._

_Severus was quick to respond. "He has done nothing to harm you. The only reason he even considered going over to Dumbledore's side was because he was weak and scared. He continues to be a weak, scared little boy who has always been nothing but a coward. I wish you to let him go because of all these reasons and because I care for him. He is, after all, my godson, and the closest thing I have, and ever will have to a son. It is highly unlikely that he will do anything to defy you, and I would be happy if he survived."_

_Harry considered these words for a moment. Severus was right; the Malfoy boy was weak, and always had been. There was no reason to think he would ever join the Order of the Phoenix. And Harry had no true desire to make Severus unhappy. After all, he had already killed someone Snape had cared about once. "Very well," he said flatly and took a step back. That was the last favor he was going to do for Snape for a long time. _

_Severus strode forward and jerked Malfoy up by the scruff of his neck and began to shove him forward, out of the circle of death eaters. "Wait, Severus," Harry called. He walked towards Draco Malfoy and grasped his left arm. He slowly slid the sleeve upwards until it revealed the Dark Mark. Harry placed his wand tip directly on top of the Dark Mark. His sleeve fell down a bit to reveal spindly, white fingers. Harry pressed his wand deeply into the Dark Mark and thought of how Malfoy had almost betrayed him. A huge, red _**X**_appeared over the Dark Mark, symbolic of Malfoy's betrayal. Malfoy's scream of agony echoed throughout the graveyard. Harry pulled his wand away and threw the boy forward, laughing._

_"Run," Harry said in a coldly amused voice. "Run, and keep running, and hope dearly that our paths never cross again."_

_Harry watched the boy stumble away and run off into the night. Harry started laughing, a high, cold laugh that wouldn't stop. It was shrill and echoed throughout the night. Laughing so hard_….

"Harry! HARRY! Wake up, mate!" Ron's frantic voice broke through Harry's dream. Harry's eyes snapped open and he saw his best friend, Ronald Weasley, standing over him, looking anxious. The shrill laugh continued to resonate in his ears. A second later, Harry realized that it wasn't just in his ears, it was in the room, because it was he who was laughing insanely. His laughter turned to great gasps. When his breathing had finally slowed down to normal, he looked around the room frenetically.

"Where is he?" Harry asked angrily. He shoved Ron out of the way, hard. He saw the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour. He pushed his way through them and looked anxiously up and down the halls. "WHERE IS HE!" Harry exploded.

"Um, who?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Draco!" Harry shouted furiously.

"Malfoy?" She said in a slightly confused voice.

Harry wanted to shake her. "YES, Draco Malfoy!" He snapped. What the hell were they playing at? Harry had just been torturing Malfoy—no, Voldemort had been. Where had he gone, and why were they all staring at him like he was insane?

It was because, he understood, as the adrenaline drained out of his body, he was acting like he was insane. They hadn't been in the graveyard. They hadn't watched Har—Voldemort, torturing Draco Malfoy. Harry suddenly felt very tired. He sank back against the wall. He wanted to slide down to the floor, but he wasn't about to show that much weakness. He shoved his hair away from his face; it was sopping with sweat.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said sympathetically. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her breasts up against him. He pushed her away, annoyed. She'd been trying to get him back all summer, but the more she tried, the less he liked her. He didn't quite understand why she wouldn't give up. He wished she would just stop it so that they could go back to being friends. Now he found that he was annoyed with her most of the time and wanted nothing more than for her to leave him in peace. One night he'd walked into his room, wanting some peace and quite so he could dwell again on everything that had happened in his sixth year, only to find her lying on his bed in a silky nightgown that was slightly see-through. While at one point this might have turned him on, right then all it did was thoroughly piss him off. He'd yelled at her to get out, and she had, rather sulkily. Harry didn't understand why she was acting like Romilda Vane. He had thought she had more class than that.

Ginny stumbled away from Harry, looking slightly hurt. He ignored her and sank to his knees, much the same way he had in his sixth year beside Malfoy after he had accidentally performed a Dark Curse on Malfoy. Harry buried his face in his hands, pondering on what he had just seen. Although he deeply disliked Malfoy, seeing him on the ground being tortured had been extremely unnerving. His head snapped up.

"Leave," he said sharply. "All of you." He caught Hermione and Ron's eye and sent them a silent message that they were to stay. Slowly but surely the rest of Ron's family began shuffling sleepily back towards their respective beds. Soon everyone seemed to be gone. Harry looked up, and sure enough, he Ron, and Hermione were the last ones left. He motioned towards his room and they filed in, one by one, all silent. Harry closed the door, and then pointed at it.

"_Muffliato_," he hissed, in case anyone had decided to be foolish enough to listen. He had turned seventeen a few days prior and was now allowed to use magic outside of school. He'd also passed his Apparition test, so he was an adult wizard at last.

"I finally had a vision," he told the others in a low voice.

"Yeah, I figured," Ron said with a nervous laugh. Harry ignored him. Unbeknownst to everyone except for himself, Ron, and Hermione, Harry had been straining all summer to force his way into Voldemort's mind to learn something of his plans and of his four Horcruxes. So far it had been a fruitless quest—until tonight, that is.

Quickly, Harry told Ron and Hermione all that he had seen and felt. However, he left out the weird feelings he had had when he had seen Malfoy being tortured. He would just confuse them, and to be honest, he wasn't even sure _he_ fully understood it yet.

When he finished, there was a tense silence, and then Ron exhaled."Wow," he said softly, and then a small grin crept over his face. "I wish I could have been there to see Malfoy being creamed. I would have loved to see him knocked down a peg or two."

Harry froze for a second. Hermione glanced at him, a strange look in her eyes, almost as though she knew of the impending explosion. "Ron," she said reprovingly. "That's a horrible thing to say. From what Harry's told us, Malfoy felt really bad about having to kill Dumbledore, and _didn't_. So he can't be _all_ bad. Besides, we shouldn't _want_ to see someone being tortured. That would make us just as bad as the Death Eaters."

Ron muttered something that sounded like "Whatever," but Harry, again, ignored him. He felt all of the boiling anger inside of him cool down. He wondered briefly why it had bothered him so much when Ron had said that, but pushed it aside for later. He stood up.

"We need to leave now," he said shortly. He started looking around the room, grabbing things and throwing them into a backpack he had bought a few weeks earlier. Ron and Hermione also stood up, looking alarmed.

"Now?" Hermione asked weakly. "But, Harry, it's the middle of the night!"

"So?" Harry asked. He shook his head. "We stayed for Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was beautiful. Now we leave. Why wait? Besides, now we know where Voldemort and his death eaters are. We should go there and wait for them. Spy a bit."

"But—" Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

"No buts, Hermione," he said. He had a peculiar expression on his face as he gazed at Harry. "All right," he said calmly. "We can leave. It's already almost six. It's better this was, anyway. We can leave a note for my mum, so she won't try and stop us."

Harry frowned at Ron. "Don't you want to say good bye?" he asked.

Ron looked away, a pained, slightly faraway expression on his face. "I already did," he said softly. "Today I told her and the rest of the family that I loved them. They were surprised, but said they loved me too. Now I only have to tell one other person that I love them. Because we're probably going to die on this mission. I understand that. But I can't die without telling her I love her."

Harry had frozen. 'Why is Ron doing this now?' he wondered. 'And why in front of me? I don't want to be listening to this.' Harry suddenly became very interested in his fingernails. Nevertheless, he couldn't help glancing up and watching as Ron walked over to a very shocked Hermione and kissed her on the lips.

Harry turned as red as Ron's hair and hurriedly turned around, starting to noisily pack his things. He chanced a glance behind him, but unfortunately Ron and Hermione were still engaged in a ferocious lip lock, and hadn't taken his hint. He grabbed the backpack he had bought for the occasion. He had absolutely no intention of taking his whole trunk for the journey. He thought it best to take a few select items. He examined what was in his trunk. He decided to start with the basics. Two pairs of underwear, jeans, socks, shirts, robes, one cloak, his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, in case he had to go back to Hogwarts, dress robes, which he packed on a whim. Although he was going to only take the bare necessities, it didn't really matter. His backpack had cost ten Galleons, but it was worth it. It could carry up to 500 pounds of anything, and still be as light as a feather, and also not be excessively big, attracting Muggle attention. It was also able to fit objects that might break, and that were exceptionally large, like his Firebolt, which he thought he might need. These backpacks were mainly for witches and wizards who wished to go hiking or camping like Muggles, and didn't want to be overburdened.

Harry finished packing rather quickly; he didn't have much he wanted to take. He glanced quickly over at Ron and Hermione again. They were no longer kissing; instead, they were merely holding each other. Ron's head was resting on top of Hermione's; he was stroking her bushy hair and whispering to her. His eyes were closed, and he looked more content than Harry had ever seen before. He cleared his throat, and Ron's eyes snapped open, and he looked around, as if in a daze.

"Oh," he said, blushing. He looked embarrassed, but Harry gave him a reassuring smile, and Ron grinned back, a goofily happy sort of grin. Harry shooed them out of the door.

"Go get packed," he said. "And come back here when you're ready."

Ron nodded, and Hermione, who had just looked up, flushed slightly pink, but a shy sort of smile crept over her face as she nodded too. Harry had never seen her look so vulnerable before. Harry smiled to himself as they left the room with their arms around each other.

Harry dressed quickly in muggle clothes; a pair of jeans and a shirt. He had spent about 100 pounds buying his own clothes over the summer; he wanted to be free of the Dursleys completely. After he had turned seventeen, he had left everything that had once been Dudley's behind at the Dursley's. He wished to own nothing that reminded him of his life at the Dursley's. He had absolutely no intention of ever going back there, the way that Sirius had been forced to go back to his parents' house. Harry lay on his bed, waiting for Ron and Hermione to return. They came back about a half an hour later, dressed, and carrying similar lightweight backpacks.

"We grabbed everything we'll need and all of our money too. We left notes on our beds, explaining everything," Ron said. "You might not need to, but I think you should leave a note too."

Harry nodded and bent over his trunk to retrieve a quill and some parchment. He dipped the quill in some ink and paused for a moment, contemplating what he would possibly say. He knew that Mrs. Weasley would have a panic attack, but he rather hoped that the rest of the family would help her keep her head. Harry sighed and bent over the parchment, and wrote:

_Dear Weasleys,_

_What to say? I suppose Ron and Hermione already explained everything in their letters, but I suppose you should hear it from me too._

_We're going after Voldemort. There are things that need to be done before he can be defeated. I can't tell you what; it's too risky. And I know that some of you will say I should probably finish my years at Hogwarts before I go after him, or let the Aurors deal with it. I just can't do that. For one, the Aurors don't fully understand what they're dealing with. And I can't wait to finish my years at Hogwarts because I can't risk him becoming more powerful, or giving him another year's worth of time to kill people. That is why I must go._

_As for Ron and Hermione; this was their choice. I would never ask them to accompany me, but they want to, and I do appreciate it. I will do all I can to protect them, but I cannot ensure their survival. Or mine, for that matter. We will write, occasionally, to let you all know that we're alive. But we won't be able to give you details of anything we're doing, or where we are. I know that this must be torture, and I'm sorry that we have to leave like this. However, _w_e couldn't risk you stopping us. Thank you all for everything you've ever done for me over the years._

_Wishing you all the best,_

_ Harry_

_P.S. Please take care of Pigwidgeon, Crookshanks, and Hedwig for us. _

Harry looked over his completed letter, guilt filling him like a balloon. After all the Weasleys had done for him, he was taking their youngest son and leading him directly into danger. Harry felt horrible, but there was precious little he could do about it. He set the letter on the pillow of his newly made bed, and turned to Ron and Hermione. He smiled weakly at them. They smiled back warmly, and he felt a rush of gratitude towards the both of them for what they were doing. He gestured wordlessly towards the door, and they left through it. They exited the house quietly, trying not to wake anyone. Harry took one last, long look at it. It was the only place he'd ever lived in, besides Hogwarts, where he'd actually been happy. Harry looked away, into the faces of his two best friends, who were both looking to him for guidance.

Harry thought for a moment and realized that he needed to Apparate to the place where Bob Ogden had been in the memory Dumbledore had shown him the year before. That would give them time to walk into the village under the invisibility cloak and get their bearings. To do this, Harry knew, he would have to guide Ron and Hermione during the Apparition.

"All right, take one of my arms, each of you," Harry said, holding out his arms to both of them. "I'm going to guide you to where we're going."

They nodded, and each grasped an arm of his. Harry concentrated hard on the deserted road where he had seen Bob Ogden in that memory from a long time ago. Then Harry turned around, into the pressing darkness to the mystery and horror ahead.

**A/N:** Okay, so that was my fabulous start to the new story. What did y'all think? I'm not sure when the second chapter will be up; I'm rather swamped with schoolwork right now. So, please review! I'm dying for some. OH! The teaser!

**Teaser:**

Harry walked down the dark street, gazing idly in the shop windows. Up ahead, he saw a figure huddled underneath a cloak.

'Beggar,' he thought, and pulled a pound out from his pocket to give to the beggar. However, as he drew nearer, he saw that the figure was trembling. He frowned, and knelt down beside it.

"Are you okay?" he asked kindly.

The person gasped, and hurried to hide themselves more thoroughly with their cloak. Harry saw a thin, white hand extend from the cloak. He grabbed it and grasped the edge of the cloak, pulling it over the person's head to reveal messy, white-blond hair, streaked with dirt, mud, and….was that blood? It also revealed a very familiar face.

"_Malfoy_?"

**A/N:** Okay, maybe a bit predictable, but still. Lol. Review. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	2. Broken Blond

**A/N:** SO, the second chapter. I hope you all like it. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'Over at the Slytherin table Crabbe and Goyle were muttering together. Hulking boys though they were, they looked oddly lonely without the tall, pale figure of Malfoy between them, bossing them around_…._Where, Harry wondered, was Malfoy now, and what was Voldemort making him do under the threat of killing him and his parents?'_ –Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Page 640, Paragraph 2.

**Chapter 2**

**Broken Blond**

**Normal POV**

Harry opened his eyes. He, Ron, and Hermione were standing on the same road that he had seen Bob Ogden standing on when he had looked in on Ogden's memory with Dumbledore in his sixth year. Harry looked around. There was that same sign, pointing to their left: GREAT HANGLETON, 5 MILES. Then, on their right: LITTLE HANGLETON, 1 MILE. It looked exactly the same, albeit a bit more tattered.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that Little Hangleton is where the graveyard is," Harry said, recalling his conversation with Dumbledore.

"In that case, we want to go to Great Hangleton," said Hermione briskly.

Harry looked at her, startled. "What?" he said. "Why?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione said, sounding much like she used to in Hogwarts when she was surprised that Harry and Ron didn't understand the answer to a question. "Little Hangleton is probably a small town, judging by the 'Little'. People in small towns talk. If we go traipsing in there, they'll probably start gossiping. I mean, three strange teenagers without adults with them? That's probably the most exciting thing that's happened there in months, if not years! And if they start talking, it'll be sure to somehow get to Voldemort. No, we have to stay in Great Hangleton in the day, and Apparate to Little Hangleton at night when no one's around."

Ron shook his head. "I still don't understand how this is going to help us find the Horcruxes, or even figure out what they are."

Harry shook his head. "I like your idea, Hermione." Then he turned to Ron, addressing his worry. "And don't worry; I have an idea. There must be a reason that Voldemort keeps going back to his father's grave. I think he might have hidden one of the Horcruxes there, with his father in his grave."

Hermione's eyes widened. 'That's a good idea, Harry!" She gasped. The she frowned. "Only problem is, when would we dig up the grave? It would have to be a time that we were sure Voldemort and his Death Eaters aren't going to pop in on us. We need to spy for a while, you know, see when Voldemort holds his little meetings. However, we have to do it from afar, and under the invisibility cloak."

Harry nodded. "Okay," he said. "But there's nothing we can do now, so let's go up to Great Hangleton."

They walked in silence. The road was very dull; no one had yet woken up, so the road was deserted, and the most interesting things that they saw was an oddly shaped cloud.

After about two hours they came upon a town. A battered sign read: WELCOME TO GREAT HANGLETON! The town was rather like a small city. It seemed very old indeed, and not very well-kept at all. It seemed like a town where merchants came, and was rather like taking a step back in time fifty years. As they trod down the cobblestone road, they noticed people beginning to set up stands. It reminded Harry of Diagon Alley, or perhaps a Muggle version of it.

"Let's look for an inn," Hermione suggested.

Harry nodded. "Good idea," he said.

They walked a few more blocks, looking idly in the shop windows at the dusty displays. Harry caught sight of a jewelry shop and glanced inside, then paused, curious. A strange ring was displayed. It showed a gold lion with ruby-red eyes. It looked like the lion was resting on top of something invisible.

"Mate? What's up?" Ron had noticed him lagging behind.

"What?" Harry said distantly.

Ron walked up and stood beside him. "Huh," he said. "Cool ring. Come on, let's—hey! What are you doing?"

For Harry was walking inside the shop. It was dim, and dusty. It didn't display much, just a few select items. Harry could tell at once that this was a shop that sold one-of-a-kind, very expensive jewelry. An old woman came out of the back, wearing lots of jewelry and had shawls wrapped around her, and was wearing glasses that magnified her eyes. Harry was reminded vividly of Professor Trelawney.

The old woman smiled. "Hello, Harry dear. My name is Agatha. You wanted to see about the lion ring?"

Harry nodded, as if in a trance. It seemed perfectly reasonable that she should know his name, and know what ring his wanted. He wasn't sure why, but it just did. She bustled over to the window and pulled out the ring, which was resting on a rather dusty red cushion.

She held it out to Harry. "Go on, dear," she urged. "Pick it up. Hold it."

Harry carefully removed the ring from its resting place. A pleasant tingling feeling zipped through his fingers as he held it. At that moment he felt complete and utter contentment. He gently stroked the ring with the balls of his fingers. The lion's tail was the band.

"It's beautiful," he said softly.

"Of course it is," she said with a smile. "I always know, always…."

"Know what?" Harry asked, though he had a feeling he knew.

"When a ring's owner comes," she said happily. "Let me show you something, dear."

She walked over to the window again. She returned with a red cushion. Resting on it was a silver ring, made up of a snake with emerald eyes. The snake's body was the band of the ring, like the lion's tail was. A strange sensation went through Harry when he saw the ring, though he couldn't quite place it. Agatha took the lion ring from Harry's fingers, and pressed the band of it into the band of the snake ring. They snapped together with a click, to form one, magnificent ring. Harry had frozen, watching her do this. She handed it back to him. He slipped it on his ring finger. It fit perfectly. He pulled it off and handed it back to her. She pulled it apart, and handed the lion part back to him.

Harry put it back on. "How much?" He asked. She studied him, sizing him up.

"For you? One thing only. Assure me that when you _do_ find your true love, you won't run away in fear, as so many before you have done."

Harry paused for a moment, a slight frown touching his face. "But I thought I already met my true love," he said, thinking of Ginny. Although he had broken up with her and she was reacting rather badly to it, he had always assumed that once Voldemort was dead, if he managed to survive, they would get back together, get married, and have children.

She smiled. "The redheaded beauty is not your love, but another's. Her love for you and yours for her was childlike love. You cared for her, and she for you, but it is not meant to be. It ran its course. If you get back together with her, you will be safe. However, the passion will be short-lived, for it was never real to begin with. It was what was expected by everyone, so you followed witlessly, and though I do not blame you, you must move out of the expectations of others and do what will genuinely make you happy. You will find true passion when you see your true love. You have already met your true love, but you were both too blinded by other factors to truly see each other. And both too young. You both made mistakes, and your true love has acted in an abominable manner towards you. But that person was just a child then. This person has experienced things which have aged this person a great deal. So when you see the change, do not doubt it. Just understand that they have aged, and grown up. Now is the time when you must be together. Without this person, you will never defeat Voldemort."

Harry paused, letting this sink in. "I promise," he told her. Her face broke into a wide smile, and in her shining face, Harry saw hope, promise, and love. On an impulse, he took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Thank you," he whispered, and though later that night he would go over it in his mind and wonder what he was thanking her for, at that moment he knew exactly what it was, though he couldn't have expressed it in words. Her smile widened.

"You're welcome, dear. Please do not fear your love, despite what the brother of your false true love might say. Your redheaded friend. Listen to the brilliant brunette. She knows what she is talking about." She smiled at him again. "Oh, and by the way, the inn that you're looking for is at the end of the street," she told him. Harry nodded.

"Will I see you again?" He asked.

Her eyes had a faraway look in them. "In the next life, perhaps." She held up the silver snake part of the ring. "This part of the ring belongs to your true love, and I will only sell it to that person. Once you see it on the person, you can be assured that it is the right one. Farewell."

"Goodbye," he murmured. Harry exited the shop, and, ignoring Ron and Hermione's bewildered looks, swept down the cobblestone street.

"Harry, what on earth were you doing in there?" Hermione exclaimed. She spotted the ring on his finger. "Harry!" She exclaimed. "How much did that ring cost? And _why_ did you buy it!"

Harry paused for a moment, then shook his head. "I didn't pay anything for it. It was…a gift. Don't ask me to explain; I can't. Perhaps we'll know one day. Come on," he said hastily, trying to avoid more questions. "Our inn is at the end of the street. Ag-the owner told me," he said. He wasn't sure why he refrained from saying her name, but something told him he should.

Hermione frowned but didn't pursue the subject, for which Harry was grateful. They came upon the inn in less than two minutes. It indeed reminded Harry of the Leaky Cauldron. They got two rooms, one for Ron and Hermione, and one for Harry. They assembled in Harry's room for a conference.

"Well, I was thinking," Hermione began.

"Big surprise," Ron muttered, and Hermione shoved him playfully.

"I think that if we're going to spy, we should do it one at a time. One person would make less noise, and let's face it, we can't all fit under the invisibility cloak like we could when we were eleven. Not only that, if one of us is captured, there have to be at least two left to fight. Now Harry, you aren't going to be one of the spies."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "What?" He said, astounded. "Why not?"

"Because you're the only one who can kill him!" Hermione said impatiently. "Neither Ron nor I are mentioned in the prophecy, so if we're killed, it won't matter in the long run. No, Harry! This isn't an option," she said, sounding very much like Professor McGonagall. "We can't risk you getting hurt. Ron, if he agrees, and I will be the spies."

"Of course I agree," Ron snapped, looking insulted.

"Good. Now I've decided that we should each carry coins, like we did for the D.A. in our fifth year." She pulled out three galleons. "Since we don't have any wizard money, because we traded it all out for Muggle money, we don't have to worry about spending them. I've bewitched these so that if we're in danger, they'll become warm. We don't have to perform a spell; they'll just know we're in danger. Now if they grow warm while one of us is out spying, I want the other two to leave, do you understand me? No false heroics, no going to where the other is to help them. I want them to both LEAVE. Is that understood?"

Harry and Ron nodded reluctantly, though Harry privately thought that the day he left one of his friends in danger was the day he married Voldemort.

Hermione held out two galleons to them, and they both took one. "Ron and I are now going to go stake out the site, and see all the good hiding places. It's a good thing we've been practicing Occlumency. We wouldn't want Voldemort to pick up on one of our stray thoughts." She stood up, and Ron did too. "I'm not sure when we'll be back, Harry. Make sure your wand is with you at all times, and don't leave town." Harry nodded, stood up, and embraced her. He hugged Ron next, and they both bid him goodbye and left.

Harry flopped back on his bed, suddenly feeling extremely tired. It was almost ten, and he'd been doing a lot that day. Suddenly, sleep seemed like a very good idea. Harry quickly pulled off his glasses, kicked off his shoes, rolled over, and fell asleep.

It was late afternoon when he woke. The red sun was shining crimson shadows through the curtains onto his bedroom floor. Harry shook his head; he had a rather bad headache. He tried to draw breath, but the room felt stifling, rather like he had been in there for too long. He grabbed his glasses off of his nightstand, shoved on his shoes, grabbed his room key, and left, locking the door behind him. He strode quickly out of the inn into the darkening street.

It was a couple of blocks before he calmed down. He felt agitated, like he'd done something wrong and he was waiting to get reprimanded. His heart was beating hard, and it wasn't due to his running. His heart kept giving an odd leap, every now and then, but it wasn't a good thing. He felt afraid, and he wasn't sure why. He shook it off, though, and continued down the street. He looked down at his ring and stroked the head of the lion. For some reason, this action calmed him down. He continued to play with the ring, looking in the shop windows. He had some Muggle money on him. He toyed with the idea of going into the next tea shop he saw and buying some hot chocolate, but then decided that it was best to remain inconspicuous, and he wasn't wearing a cloak. He would wait to go into a shop until he could be properly hidden. Harry walked down the dark street, gazing idly in the shop windows. Up ahead, he saw a figure huddled underneath a cloak.

'Beggar,' he thought, and pulled a pound out from his pocket to give to the beggar. However, as he drew nearer, he saw that the figure was trembling. He frowned, and knelt down beside it.

"Are you okay?" he asked kindly.

The person gasped, and hurried to hide themselves more thoroughly with their cloak. Harry saw a thin, white hand extend from the cloak. He grabbed it and grasped the edge of the cloak, pulling it over the person's head to reveal messy, white-blond hair, streaked with dirt, mud, and….was that blood? It also revealed a very familiar face.

"_Malfoy_?" Harry gasped. "What are you doing…." But his voice died as he pulled down the cloak further, and fully took in his old classmate's appearance. His hair, once shiny and slicked back, hung messy and long around his face. His face was rather gaunt, and he looked starved. He also had cuts all over his face, a black eye, and the other eye had circles under it. He looked as though he hadn't bathed or slept in days. Harry had frozen in the act of staring at his rival, once so proud, now so broken.

Malfoy flushed as he realized what he must look like to Harry. He tried to shove Harry away from him, but he barely managed to even put a little bit of pressure on Harry's chest. "What do you want, Potter?" he rasped. His voice sounded hoarse; as though he had not used it in days.

"What's happened to you?" Harry whispered. He reached out to touch Malfoy's face, but Malfoy jerked away.

"Don't touch me," he hissed. Harry noticed that he was cradling his left arm. Harry thought he knew what must lie there. The disgraced Dark Mark. He had seen it happen.

"Did Voldemort do this to you?" he asked quietly. Malfoy flinched at the name, but refused to answer. His gaze dropped down.

"Just go away," he whispered.

Harry sat there, uncertain. Not about whether or not to leave Malfoy. No way in hell would he just leave Malfoy like that, on the streets. Enemy or not, Malfoy was still a human being, hadn't killed Dumbledore, and had once been his classmate. Despite all the cruel things Malfoy had done to him in their six years of knowing each other, Harry couldn't bring himself to abandon Malfoy on the streets of a Muggle city, half-starved. He wasn't even sure if Malfoy had his wand with him. No, the only thing Harry was uncertain about was how to go about convincing Malfoy to come with him. Finally, he decided on a gentle, reasoning approach.

"Malfoy," he said cautiously. Malfoy looked up warily.

"What?" He snapped.

"I think you should come back with me to my hotel room."

Malfoy snorted. "Yeah, right. So you can take your time killing me? I don't think so. I'm not stupid, you know."

Harry shook his head. "Have I ever given you any reason to think I'd do something like that?" He asked.

Malfoy muttered something under his breath. "What was that?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked up, and stared him straight in the eye. "No, but I've given you plenty of reasons to." He shook his head. "Why do you want me to come with you? What possible good would it do?"

"You could get cleaned up," Harry said hopefully. "Get something to eat. Get clean clothes. Recover from what's happened to you. Then, when you're ready, we could figure out where to take you. The Order of the Phoenix may still be willing to shelter you. I'd put in a good word for you."

Malfoy gazed at Harry in disbelief. "Why on earth would you want to do that, Potter? After all that's happened between us, I would expect you to be laughing at the sight of me like this. Besides, we're enemies, remember? School or not, we're still rivals." Harry bit back saying "It's not really a rivalry if one of the rivals has already been defeated." Instead, he said, "Even enemies can show a little bit of compassion." Harry wasn't sure who said that, but it made sense now. "Besides, if I leave you out here, you'll die. I don't hate you _that_ much. I don't want you _dead_."

Malfoy shook his head. "You should," he muttered, and Harry caught a flicker of self-loathing on the same face that he himself had loathed for six years. Now, with everything that had happened with Voldemort, the little competition that had existed between the two of them seemed rather insignificant.

"Come on," Harry said, and, this time, it was _he_ who held out his hand to Malfoy. Malfoy stared at it for five long seconds, and then, looking straight into Harry's eyes, grabbed a hold of it, and Harry helped him up.

They began to walk, and Harry noticed Malfoy limping. "Do you need help?" Harry asked cautiously.

"No," Malfoy snapped hastily.

"Okay," Harry said, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. However, as he noticed Malfoy's breathing becoming more ragged, and labored, he began to feel worried. They were still several blocks from the inn, and Harry wondered whether or not Malfoy would be able to make it.

When they were about two blocks away, Malfoy collapsed. Harry wheeled around, a strange fear seizing his heart, and he caught Malfoy before he hit the ground. Malfoy, Harry realized, was barely conscious. Harry placed one of Malfoy's arms around his neck and his left arm underneath Malfoy's knees, and picked him up, bridal style. Malfoy's head lolled against Harry's neck. Harry hurried along as best he could; he was worried about Malfoy, and wasn't sure how badly damaged Malfoy was internally. However, the going was slow. Though Malfoy wasn't bigger than Harry, he also wasn't much smaller. Though he was starved helped a bit; he didn't weigh as much; the fact was, Malfoy was still a seventeen-year old boy, and, frail and starved though he was, he still weighed a good 150 pounds, and Harry barely weighed 170.

Fortunately, they were not far from the inn, and, after about three minutes, it came into sight. Harry sped up, and, in less than a minute, fell through the door. The innkeeper stared at Harry, and Harry knew he how he must look, with a boy his age in his arms, almost unconscious, but he didn't care. Ignoring the innkeeper, Harry flew up the stairs to his room. When he was almost there, Hermione burst out of her and Ron's room.

"Harry!" She exclaimed angrily. "Where've you been…." Her voice trailed away as she caught sight of the broken blond in Harry's arms.

"Harry?" she whispered, but Harry shook his head.

"I need your help. He collapsed two blocks from here, and I'm not sure how badly damaged he is. I'm going to go give him a bath and clean his cuts. Don't tell Ron." Harry finished, for he knew exactly what Ron's reaction would be: Throw Malfoy back out into the streets.

Hermione left to give some excuse to Ron, and Harry entered his room. He set Malfoy on the bed gently. He then scrambled frantically into his bathroom and began to run a bath for Malfoy. He entered the bedroom again and began to carefully remove Malfoy's clothes. He pulled the cloak off first, tossing it on the floor. He also gently removed Malfoy's robes, lifting him up slightly as he did so. Malfoy, he noticed, reeked horridly. He clearly hadn't taken a bath in days. As he removed the robes, a wand fell out of his pocket. Harry picked it up curiously.

"Holly with dragon heartstring. Eleven inches," Malfoy murmured. Harry jumped, startled. "What are you doing?" Malfoy mumbled.

"Giving you a bath. You clearly need one," Harry responded firmly. Malfoy looked like he was about to protest, but then decided that it wasn't worth the effort, and merely nodded weakly. He closed his eyes again. Harry began to gingerly pull off the white undershirt Malfoy had on; it was stained with blood, and was ripped. It looked as though it had been sliced with a knife. When Harry had gotten the shirt off completely, he saw a huge gash in Malfoy's chest. It looked as though it had been made with a knife, and also looked infected.

"How did this happen?" Harry ask quietly. Malfoy gazed blearily through half-closed eyes.

"Oh," Malfoy said, rather dismissively. "I was trying to steal some food from a Muggle salesman. He didn't appreciate it very much."

Despite himself, Harry laughed. "I'm sorry. I guess you never got much experience with stealing food before, did you? Being rich and all."

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy actually smiled. A real smile, not a cruel smirk or sneer. It changed his face completely. He stopped looking like a horribly unpleasant person, and actually looked human, much the way he had when Harry had caught him crying in Myrtle's bathroom the previous year. His teeth were straight and white, and none of them had been knocked out.

Hermione came rushing back into the room, looking…well, there was no good way to describe how she looked. One person might say she looked worried, while another might say disgusted, but only Harry could truly see the battle she was having inwardly. She was going to have to choose between her incredible dislike of Malfoy and the fact that he was a potentially dying person who needed her help. Her dislike of Malfoy didn't win, of course, but one could still see the aversion in her eyes as she rushed over.

She saw the gash in Malfoy's chest and pulled out her wand. Pointing it at the wound, Harry saw her face screw up in concentration before a wave of blue light came out of her wand and passed over Malfoy's chest, healing the wound instantly. Harry looked at her in wonder, touching the place where Malfoy had been hurt. He had absolutely no clue what she'd done.

"How did you do that?" He gasped.

She shook her head, looking weary. "All summer I've been studying books on Healing. I had a funny feeling there would be a lot of injuries, and now that we can't count on Madame Pomfrey…." She let her voice trail off as she gazed down at Malfoy. "Care to tell me how you came across him, Harry?" She asked.

Harry shook his head. He too looked down at Malfoy, whose eyes were closed. Harry touched his shoulder. Malfoy's eyes cracked open. "Come on," Harry said. "You need to take a bath. You obviously haven't had on for a while."

Malfoy nodded, rather unwillingly. He was being surprisingly docile, but Harry supposed this should make sense. He had been through a great deal. Harry supposed he would have changed too, had he been a spoiled brat and the most important decision he'd ever had to make was deciding what kind of expensive new broom he wanted, and then to be faced with the threat of his death and those he cared about. Harry had a strong suspicion that it had changed Malfoy for the better. He was certainly being a lot nicer than usual.

Harry and Malfoy entered the bathroom together. Harry turned off the water, then paused uncertainly. "Can you…I mean, are you able…?"

"I am perfectly capable of giving myself a bath, Potter," said Malfoy, and there was a touch of his old sarcasm in his words. However, it faded away and a lost look came into his eyes.

"My mother used to give me baths, you know," he said softly. "She loved me, I think, much more than my father ever could. I was his heir, yes, but to her, I was her son." Then, without warning, he burst into tears. "It was all my fault!" He sobbed.

Harry froze, as uncertain now of what to do as he had been at fifteen, when Cho Chang had started to cry in front of him. "Er, what was your fault?" He asked cautiously. Malfoy stopped crying almost instantly, as though Harry's voice had reminded him that Harry was there. He looked for a moment as though he might not answer, but then he spoke.

"My mother, Potter," he told Harry. "He killed her. The Dark Lord killed her. That bastard killed my mother, right in front of me." A blind rage had come into his eyes. "He thinks that I'm just going to run away. He's wrong. I'll get my revenge if it's the last thing I do."

Harry realized, as he watched and listened to Malfoy, that he was right. This was _not_ the same person he had known for six years. Harry remembered how careless he had seemed about a wound that was much larger and likely much more painful than the wound he had received in his third year, when he had moaned on and on about it. He was no longer a scared, ambitious little boy. He was a man. His gray eyes gleamed with anger as he thought about his mother, and for a moment, Harry felt slightly fearful. This Malfoy was much more powerful than the old one. This Malfoy, he realized, would do anything and everything to get his revenge. Harry shook his head, clearing these thoughts away.

"I have no doubt you'll get your revenge when the time comes," Harry said. "If I can, I'll help you do it. But there is nothing we can do now. You can't get your revenge half-naked and half-dead. First, recuperation. Second, planning. Third, revenge. You're still on step one, and if you want to get to step three, I suggest you complete step one."

Malfoy looked rather mutinous for a second, but then he sagged, looking rather defeated. "You're right," he said, looking slightly surprised that the words coming out of his mouth were directed towards Harry. A slight smile crossed his face. "I never thought I'd say that to you," he muttered, more to himself than to Harry. "May I have my wand? I would like to conjure some shampoo and conditioner, and soap."

Harry nodded and went to retrieve the requested item. When he returned, Malfoy was naked. Harry felt himself turn bright red as he handed the wand to Malfoy, avoiding looking at Malfoy's middle. Malfoy laughed.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, Potter; it's nothing you haven't seen before, at least," he said, eyeing Harry, "I would hope it isn't."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he made a very rude hand gesture at Malfoy. Malfoy laughed again.

"Sorry, Potter, my schedule is full."

Despite himself, Harry also laughed, now allowing himself to look at Malfoy fully. Malfoy, he was loathe to say, was very well, erm, pronounced. He was as pale in body as he was in face, though he had well-defined muscles, doubtless from five years of Quidditch training. Though his body was streaked with dirt, Harry could see no visible scars, and regretted to say that Malfoy was indeed very handsome, though a bit of a pretty boy.

Malfoy had turned slightly pink under Harry's scrutiny, and said, "Well, I guess I'll just, um…." He gestured towards the bath.

Harry nodded, and turned, leaving Malfoy alone. He shut the door behind him, and then looked back into his room. Hermione was standing by his bed, a determined expression on her face. She looked very angry.

Damn.

**A/N:** All right, so what do you think? I'm staying up WAY too late to be writing this, but I couldn't resist finishing the chapter. I'll start the third one whenever I get a chance, again, not sure when it'll be out. I've still got A LOT of school work to do. So, read and review! OH! The teaser!

**Teaser:**

"Harry! HARRY!"

Harry looked around at Hermione, who had come bounding frantically into his room. Harry frowned, pressing a finger to his lips. Malfoy was asleep.

Harry walked outside with Hermione, gently shut the door, and said, "What is it, Hermione?" In a careful voice, for Hermione looked terrified.

"Down, in the lobby," she gasped. "With Ron."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"It's—oh, Harry! It's Snape!"

**A/N:** Ooh, bet y'all didn't see that coming, didja? Lol. Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	3. Fault, Prejudice, and Wisdom

**A/N:** SO. What's up, y'all? Lol. So, um, I hope you all like this story. It's been in my head ever since I finished the sixth book. Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

'_And Harry realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying—actually crying—tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Page 522, Paragraph 2.

**Chapter 3**

**Fault, Prejudice, and Wisdom**

**Normal POV**

"All right, Harry, what's going on here?" Hermione demanded. Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot, avoiding her gaze.

He sighed. "Okay, I'll tell you. It started when I decided to take a walk…." He told her the whole story, finishing with, "And I couldn't just _leave_ him, Hermione! He would have _died_ out there!"

Hermione pursed her lips, and sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Even a git like Malfoy doesn't deserve to die. And after all, from what you told us of your vision, he was very recently tortured and almost kille—" She cut off, frowning.

Harry stared at her. "Hermione, what—" he began, but she held up a finger to silence him. Harry saw that her brow was furrowed, and she seemed to be listening hard. Harry paused, listening to. It was then that he heard it. Quiet, low sobs coming from the bathroom, sounding much like the sobs he had heard in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom the year before. However, they were different. These weren't cries of self-pity. They were cries of grief. Harry stood up so fast that he practically knocked Hermione over, and he hurried towards the bathroom, flinging open the door. He caught a whiff of citrus shampoo quickly before all of his attention was focused on the shaking boy in the bathtub.

Malfoy's sleek blond hair was dry on the top of his head, but the part that had grown out past his chin was damp and hanging clumped together, hiding his face. He was curled up in a fetal position, and his whole body was shaking. Harry rushed over to him, and, sinking to his knees beside the tub, tentatively reached out and touched Malfoy's shoulder. He flinched, and Harry withdrew his hand. Malfoy looked up, and met Harry's bright green eyes, so like his mother's, with his broken gray ones, so like his father's cold eyes. He whispered something that Harry couldn't understand.

"What?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head, clearing his throat. "It was all my fault," he whispered.

"What was?" Harry said.

"It was my fault that they both died…." Malfoy's voice caught, and more tears leaked out of his eyes. He buried his face in his knees again.

"Your mother and…?" Harry asked, though he thought that he probably knew.

Malfoy looked up, staring straight ahead. He looked so lost, that Harry could feel his heart break for the boy whom he had hated for six years. "My father, Potter. He's dead too. The Dark Lord killed him after he killed my mother, right in front of me, when he learned that I had wanted to switch sides. He _tortured_ my parents, Potter…and my mother, at least, didn't even do anything. It was _my fault_…." His voice broke.

Harry grasped Malfoy's shoulders. "Look at me," Harry demanded roughly. "No—_look at me_."

Malfoy reluctantly looked up, meeting Harry's gaze. "It wasn't your fault," Harry said firmly. "Never believe that. You did everything you could with what was given to you. It was no more your fault that Voldemort killed your parents than it was that he killed mine." Harry wasn't sure how he knew this. For all he knew, perhaps Malfoy _hadn't_ done all he could. However, for some strange reason, Harry felt strangely confident that he was right.

Malfoy looked away from him, and he echoed Harry's thoughts. "How do _you_ know?" He lashed out in a sneering voice. "_You_ weren't even _there_."

"No, but I know what Voldemort's like," Harry said, ignoring Malfoy's slight wince. "And I know that no one causes him to do _anything_. He does it out of his own cruelty. If he hadn't killed them then, for that reason, he would have gotten them later, for some other reason. After all, he was already angry with Lucius. It was Voldemort. _Not_ you. The only thing you did wrong was not taking Dumbledore up on his offer sooner."

Fresh tears ran down Malfoy's face. "I didn't…" he whispered. "Now I have nothing. This is pointless. I have nothing anywhere. The Ministry took control of my manor. The Dark Side hates me. The Light side despises me also. I am nothing. I have no money, no title, no friends, nothing. NOTHING!" He exploded, and the mirror shattered.

Harry's eyes widened slightly. He waved his wand carelessly, repairing the mirror in an instant. His eyes were filled with pity for the already forsaken young boy in front of him. Harry couldn't believe what he was about to do, but his nature decreed that it be done, as did his pity. Harry sought out Malfoy's hand and grasped it. "You might have lost everything, but you gained wisdom, and knowledge. Are you still prejudice against Muggle-borns?"

Malfoy gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "At this point, I hate the Dark Lord so much that anything he agrees with I don't! Also," he said, sobering slightly, "Granger, despite the way I treated her, healed me without hesitation. So no, I can't really hate them anymore. I still am slightly prejudice, but…." Malfoy trailed off, uncertain of what he was about to say.

"Go on," Harry encouraged, squeezing Malfoy's hand slightly.

"But I don't understand why!" Malfoy exclaimed. "I don't know why it matters. No muggle-born has ever hurt me without me prompting them to do so first. None of them were ever cruel. If anything, _I_ was the bad one." Malfoy shook his head. "I just don't understand why things have to be this way."

"People who are prejudice rarely understand why. They just know that it was taught to them to be that way," Harry said quietly.

Malfoy sighed. "I guess the answer to your question is no, I'm not."

Harry nodded, and then, without warning, pointed his wand at Malfoy, and said, "_Legilimens_!"

Malfoy gasped, and then Harry was surrounded by memories of Malfoy as a child. He pushed through them until he reached the ones from the night in the graveyard when Malfoy's parents had been killed. There it was. He briefly saw them each screaming in awful pain before bright green light descended upon them and they were both dead. Malfoy was gazing at them, inexplicable horror in his eyes. Then he turned to the furious Voldemort, who started to torture him. Harry only saw flashes of that night. He received no resistance, for Malfoy hadn't had time to prepare any. Harry saw enough to be sure that Malfoy hadn't been lying to him, and truly did feel bad for everything that he had done to Harry and his friends, so he pulled out of Malfoy's mind, to see Malfoy gazing at him in shock and anger.

"Why did you do that?" He gasped.

Harry felt slightly guilty, but pushed it aside. "I'm sorry," he said in a sincere voice. "But I had to be sure you were telling me the truth and that this wasn't all just a plot of Voldemort's to get me to trust you, and then you lead me to him."

Malfoy looked slightly insulted for a moment, and then rather defeated. "It doesn't surprise me that you would think that way. _I_ would, if I had been in your position. But don't do it again!" He added firmly.

Harry grinned. "Promise," he said.

"Now get out of here, Potter. I have to finish." Malfoy said, rather snappishly, but he had slight smile on his face.

Harry nodded and began to head towards the door. "Oh, one more thing, Malfoy," Harry said.

Malfoy looked up expectantly. "Yes?"

"You were wrong. You do have a friend. Me."

Malfoy's eyes widened incredulously. "Really?" he said, shock evident in his voice. "But…you hate me!"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't. I hated Malfoy, pompous, arrogant prick. I like you, shamed, good person."

Malfoy shook his head, lowering his eyes. "Who would have thought? Draco Malfoy, ex-death eater, friends with the boy-who-lived." Malfoy shivered, shaking his head. "Everything is so messed up!" He exclaimed softly. "When I was a little kid, I used to read adventure books about young witches and wizards. Towards the middle of the book, their lives were usually so messed up that they didn't even know what they wanted to go back to if they could reverse time. That's how I'm feeling right now. If I went back to when my parents were still alive, I would still be a prejudice little kid. But now they're dead, and I've grown a bit wiser. I don't even know where I'm going to go from here. I don't have any future, with anything. I'm wanted in the wizarding world as a known death eater. I've used Unforgivable Curses. I'm probably going to go to Azkaban—" Malfoy's voice shook on the word 'Azkaban'."—and no one will think twice about it."

"I will," Harry said abruptly. His voice was firm, as was his conviction. "I will not let them take you to Azkaban. Based on what I saw when I was in your head, you truly regret all you did. You will be a valuable asset to the Order of the Phoenix."

"The what?" Malfoy said in confusion.

"It's an organization working against Voldemort," Harry explained, ignoring Malfoy's wince. "With your knowledge of Voldemort and his plans, you can give us a great deal of information."

"But I _don't_ know anything of the Dark Lord _or_ his plans!" Malfoy exclaimed. "All I know is what he wanted me to do. He kept me in the dark about everything else."

"Oh," Harry said, his heart sinking slightly. "Well, that makes sense, I guess. He probably didn't think he could trust you, and," he added, with another realization, "he wouldn't have let you go if he'd told you anything he wouldn't want repeated. Damn," Harry cursed. "Oh well; it doesn't matter. You can still fight for us. And you don't even have to work for us. You can finish your education at Hogwarts. I mean, what do you want to do for a living? Did you ever think about it?"

Malfoy gave a slightly bitter laugh. "The only thing I ever thought I would be doing was working for the Dark Lord. Nothing else ever crossed my mind. Why should it have? My father had planned that I would work for the Dark Lord ever since conception. And after he was defeated, my father was certain that _I_ would be the next Dark Lord." Malfoy laughed again. "Yeah, right."

Harry sighed. "Okay, well, you don't have to worry about it now, do you? Right now, you just have to finish bathing, and then you can eat some dinner, then sleep. We can discuss everything in the morning."

Malfoy nodded, and picked up his washcloth, almost forgotten at his side, and began to lather some soap on it. Harry backed out of the room, and closed the door softly behind him.

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked, slight worry in her voice. Harry nodded, registering the confusion in her eyes, torn between pity and dislike.

"He's changed," Harry said, conviction in his voice. "I performed Legilimency on him. He was telling the truth about everything. He feels truly bad about the way he's treated us all these years. No, he really does," Harry snapped, in response to Hermione's disbelieving snort. "He had to watch both of his parents being tortured and murdered before being tortured for almost two hours after that."

Hermione froze. "Merlin," she whispered, looking towards the bathroom door. "How did he survive?"

"I have no clue," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "But clearly he's a lot tougher than he's ever let on. He acted like a big baby all these years. Who knew?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "Well, hardship like that can bring out the best and worst in people. I guess it tapped into some strength Malfoy didn't even know he had. Or maybe he's always been that strong, but he just liked the attention that being a whiney kid got him."

Harry nodded. "That seems the most likely." There was the sound of water draining in the bathroom. A few moments later, Malfoy came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, another towel in his hands, drying his hair. Harry stood up quickly and walked over to Malfoy. He handed him some fresh pajamas he had just conjured. They were blue and soft, made of cotton. Malfoy accepted them with a soft "Thank you." He went back in to the bathroom to change. When he came back out again, Harry and Hermione had conjured up some dinner.

"It's not much," Harry said. "But I thought that you'd better not eat too much at once; you might make yourself sick."

Malfoy nodded, said thank you again, and sat down on the bed beside Harry. He then quietly began to nibble at the chicken and ham sandwich Harry had conjured. He took a sip of the pumpkin juice, then sighed, and set both the water and plate on the nightstand. He raked his fingers through his still damp hair, and stood up. He walk over to Hermione.

"Granger," he said.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Hermione inquired, slight curiosity in her eyes.

"I wanted to say thanks for healing me, and…" he hesitated for a brief moment before saying, "I also wanted to apologize for all the pain I have put you and Potter and Weasley through. I wanted to know if we could put aside past differences and be friends."

Hermione had been observing Malfoy through rather cool eyes as he first began his little speech, but when he began to apologize, her gaze grew warmer. "I forgive you, Malfoy," she said in a gentle voice, offering her hand. "And I suppose we can give being friends a shot, so long as you promise to never call me 'Mudblood' again."

Malfoy smiled—an honest, genuine smile—and said, accepting her hand, "Thanks. I promise to never call you 'Mudblood' again, Granger."

Hermione smiled too. "Well, if we're going be friends, you can't keep calling me 'Granger', either. Call me Hermione."

"Okay, Hermione," Malfoy said, a smile forming over Hermione's name. "You can call me Draco. You can, too, Potter," he added, releasing Hermione's hand."

Harry smiled. "So long as you call me Harry."

Draco grinned. "Deal." He sat down and picked up his dinner again, and began to consume it ravenously.

Satisfied that all had been settled, at least for now, Harry turned to Hermione. "So what did you and Ron find out?" He inquired, eager for a report on how the first scouting had gone.

Hermione hesitated, glancing at Malfoy. "Maybe Ron and I should both give the report, since we split up." Harry saw her glance at Draco again, and he quickly cottoned on. She wanted to give the report when Malfoy couldn't hear. Although she was willing to try and bury the hatchet, by no means did that mean she trusted him.

Harry nodded, and he stood up. "Okay. Sounds good." Harry looked towards Draco. "We won't be too long, I think. When you're done, just set the plate down. I'll vanish it when I get back."

Draco nodded, unable to speak since his mouth was full of chicken and ham. He swallowed. "Okay. I think I'm going to go to sleep after this. I'm pretty tired." Harry nodded, and exited with Hermione.

"So," she said, with a nervous laugh. "How do you think Ron will react?"

"Well," Harry said with a sigh, "If we phrase it correctly, he might only blow one or two capillaries."

**A/N:** Lol. How WILL Ron react? Five reviews and you get to find out. Lol. Um, and the teaser for the last chapter won't happen for a couple more chapters. All right. I have an idea to combine this story and my Shadow of the Past story. I could do it very well. Yay or nay? Tell me. And I don't care what YOU have to say about it, **She-Wolf**. I'm going to listen to my other reviewers for a change. Lol. Anyway, no teaser, b/c the teaser for the last chapter sort of spans the next couple of chapters, so y'all have something to look forward to. Oh, and BTW, what's this rubbish of only 6 reviews? Come on, people, you know you love me more than that. I've got almost 400 hit for this story. So if you're one of the 394 people who haven't reviewed, and you KNOW WHO YOU ARE, shame on you! Reviews feed my soul, and right now I'm a starving kid. Besides, I recently had my birthday. I'm 16! YAY! Lol. So anyway, people REVIEW! I strongly urge this. It will help heal a guilty soul. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	4. Reactions and Reports

**A/N:** So, a new chapter. Aren't y'all all just SO excited? I don't hear any cheering! Lol. So. Enjoy. I'll probably revise this A/N later to include more stuff, but whatever. This is all you're getting for now! Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'Harry had not spared Malfoy much thought. His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten to fear in Malfoy's voice on that tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived. Harry did not believe that Malfoy would have killed Dumbledore.'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Page 640, Paragraph 2.

**Chapter 4**

**Reactions and Reports**

**Normal POV**

Ronald Weasley burst into laughter as his two friends struggled to get him to believe that Draco Malfoy was in the next room.

"Yeah, sure," he said, in a very sarcastic tone of voice. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that we've made friends with You-Know-Who, and that the war is over? Yeah, right."

Hermione and Harry exchanged an exasperated look. "Look," Hermione said in a very patient voice. "I know that you don't want to believe it, but have I ever lied to you?"

Ron looked back and forth between his two best friends, the smile fading from his face as he realized that the two weren't joking. He sank down onto his and Hermione's bed, the color draining from his already pale face. "Why?" He asked weakly.

Harry sighed, and proceeded to explain the night's events for a second time. When he had finished, Ron went from looking shocked to incredulous.

"And so you brought him back _here_!" Ron exclaimed, looking horrified. "Are you insane, Harry? He's probably working for You-Know-Who! Think about it. You go for almost a year without any visions, and then suddenly you have one about Malfoy, who we all hate, and you _just happened_ to run across him here? He's probably been told to get close to you so he can lure you to You-Know-Who!"

"No, Ron, he's not!" Harry snapped, feeling angry for some unknown reason. "I performed Legilimency on him. He was telling the truth the entire time. The vision was _real_."

"You don't know that!" Ron exclaimed, looking exasperated. "Think about it, Harry. Malfoy has probably spent months in the company of Snape. The greasy git probably taught the ferret all he knew about Occlumency. You have no clue how good he got at it! I say we take him to Hogwarts right now and let McGonagall deal with him."

Harry shook his head furiously. "No! She'd probably send him straight to the Minister of Magic, who would probably send him to Azkaban for life!"

"Good!" Ron exploded. "He deserves it!"

"Why!" Harry snarled.

"'Why'?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Blimey, Harry, don't you remember all the stuff he did to us? Remember Hermione's teeth? The slugs?"

"From what I remember, the slugs were your fault," Harry said coolly. "Considering that you performed the jinx. And as for what happened to Hermione's teeth, that turn out okay anyway, didn't it?"

Ron was now shaking his head in disbelief at Harry. "Harry," he said, in the voice of a sane man trying to reason with an insane friend, "You _do _remember that all three of us were enemies with him for six years, right?"

"Yeah," Harry responded hotly. "But things—"

"And," Ron added, cutting Harry off. "Even if we hadn't been, remember, he was a _Death Eater_. Merlin, Harry, he tried to kill Dumbledore! Don't you remember that? He also tried to kill _me_. Do you remember _that_?"

"He didn't try to kill you," Harry snapped. His voice softened. "Ron, you weren't there, that night. You didn't hear the fear in Draco's voice—"

"Oh, it's Draco, now, is it?" Ron laughed bitterly.

"Yes," Harry said softly. "It is. When Draco was up there, he was—terrified. He didn't kill Dumbledore. I don't think he wanted to kill him at all. I don't think he would have. I think that he was about to come over to our side. Dumbledore did too! But then…the other death eaters came in, and he couldn't. I think that Draco is truly a good person who got led astray."

"You 'think.'" Ron sneered. "You don't know."

"No," Harry conceded. "I don't. I only think."

"Fine," Ron replied. "That's fine. And _I_ think we should take him to Hogwarts."

Harry cursed. "Hermione, talk some sense into him!"

Hermione had been watching their exchange with a silent, troubled countenance. "Actually, Harry," she began gently. "I think he's right. I know that you've been practicing Legilimency, but you _aren't_ a master," she said firmly, as Harry opened his mouth to object. "I think we should take him to Hogwarts and let McGonagall deal with him. That's the best thing to do."

Harry looked between her and Ron for a few moments, upset, but as he gazed at Hermione, he realized that she was right. He slumped into a chair and buried his face into his hands. He wasn't sure why he felt so distressed, but he felt as if somehow he had let Draco down. "Okay, we can leave. But not until the morning."

"But—" Ron began to protest, but Hermione shot a warning glance in his direction, and he nodded quickly before falling silent. Harry rose wordlessly and left.

Harry went back to his room, and when he got there, saw that Draco was asleep. He was obviously in the middle of a nightmare; he kept twitching and crying out and moaning, striking at invisible demons in his sleep. Tears were pouring out of the corners of his eyes, dampening his drying hair. Harry moved closer to Draco, and once he was close enough, heard him whispering desperate words.

"No—no, please," Draco sobbed. "Let her live—please. No, no, please, she didn't—it was me, please, kill me. Stop! Please—no!"

Harry stared at the crying, thrashing form of his one-time hated enemy, and felt his heart break. Draco had just lost both of his parents. Now he was more like Harry than either of them had ever thought he'd be. Harry remembered the months he'd spent alone in his room at the Dursley's, crying in his sleep after Sirius had died. The one thing he had wanted(though he wouldn't have admitted it to himself at the time) would have been someone to come and hold him while he was crying. But it never happened. Harry sank down onto the bed beside Draco, and reached out to touch Draco's shoulder. Draco woke up with a yell, looking around in wild, horrid fear. Harry saw the look in his eyes, and any doubt he might have had before about Draco's honesty vanished. No one was that good of an actor. The look in Draco's eyes, that fear, horror, hatred, and sorrow, overwhelming sorrow couldn't be faked.

Draco was gasping when he awoke, but quickly gained control of his breathing. He looked initially furious upon seeing Harry. "What are you doing here, Potter!" He snarled, protectively wrapping the covers around his shivering form.

Harry made no response, simply looked at him, waiting for him to remember. It only took a few seconds.

"Oh," Draco said, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry. I just…I mean…er…."

"It's okay," Harry said, smiling plaintively. "I understand. I was like that when Sirius died."

"Black?" Draco looked slightly blank for a moment, then realization struck. "He was your godfather, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Snape told me that you knew he was innocent, and you were close to him," Draco said, in an almost gentle voice, unlike any voice Harry had ever heard him use. "I—I'm sorry. I know…it was my Aunt Bellatrix who killed him."

Harry felt spikes of anger at the mention of Snape and Bellatrix, but pushed them aside. "Thanks," Harry said softly.

"Just so you know, I'm nothing like her. I would never…I mean…I think that's why the Dark Lord tried to get me to kill Dumbledore. Because he knew…or suspected…that I couldn't…in the end…." Draco trailed off into a pensive silence.

"I saw you," Harry said suddenly. Draco looked up curiously. "I was there…on the Tower…that night. I saw you talking to Dumbledore. I saw you… and you were about to come over to our side. Then the _others_ came in," Harry said, and he couldn't keep the note of bitterness from entering his voice.

Draco stared at him, and Harry fancied that there was a slight flash of shame crossing Draco's face. Draco lowered his head, his sleek blond hair covering his now slightly pink face. "So that's why you didn't kill me when you first found me."

Harry nodded. "Yes. I also figured out that you were a death eater. That day in Diagon Alley, when we saw each other, Ron, Hermione, and I saw you go into Knockturn Alley, so we followed you, under my Invisibility Cloak."

Draco smiled reminiscently. "Ah. I always envied how you managed to avoid trouble so slyly with that cloak. How did you get it, in any case?"

"It was my dad's," Harry told him. "Anyway, we followed you, and…." Harry told him all he had seen, and how he had suspected Draco of being a Death Eater. "…But Ron and Hermione thought I was crazy. But then I saw you on the train, and I became convinced that I was right." Harry didn't mention how obsessed he had been with Draco at the time, and how fanatical he'd become about finding out what Malfoy was up to. For some reason, his obsession seemed a lot stranger now that he thought about mentioning it to Draco.

"Oh." Draco looked embarrassed. "By the way, about your nose…sorry. I was kind of angry, at the time."

Harry smirked. "I was really infuriated at you. I wanted to wring your neck. So I kind of suspected you all along. I'm not really sure what I would have done if I'd discovered proof. I tried to mention my suspicions to Dumbledore, but he got angry, and said that I was wrong."

"To protect me," Draco said, now looking outright ashamed. "I feel…funny. I know I misjudged Dumbledore, but my parents had told me for so long that he was a fool. I don't know what to believe anymore, really. It's like I want to hate everything that the Dark Lord believes in, but it's hard, because his values were what I was raised to believe. It's as if there are two of me. The person I was before the Dark Lord tried to get me to kill Dumbledore, and when I couldn't, killed my family, and the person I am now. They're both conflicting, and I don't know what to believe. I know in my heart that the Dark Lord is wrong, but my head hasn't realized that yet, completely. My parents…." Draco trailed off, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes again. "Merlin, I _hate_ this!" Draco exploded. "Never in my life have I been this vulnerable…this _weak_!" He spat the word 'weak' like it was poison.

"You aren't weak," Harry said firmly. "Your parents just died. I was the same way after Sirius died, and I'd only known him a couple of years. I can only imagine how you must feel." Harry wasn't sure how he knew just the right thing to say to Draco, but he did. It was as though the words came to his lips from some unknown, magical place.

Draco smiled thinly. "Thanks."

They sat that way in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. The conversation had helped them form an odd sort of bond. The bond between two children who have both lost their parents, and can share their pain.

Draco reached for his wand, and conjured a crystal goblet. Harry was vividly reminded of last year, when he'd had to force the green liquid from the false Horcrux basin into Dumbledore's mouth using a crystal goblet.

Harry shook his head slightly, and watched Draco filling the goblet with ice water. Draco drank deeply from the goblet, and Harry watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Draco refilled the goblet and offered it to Harry, who gratefully took it and drank silently. Harry handed it back to Draco, and was suddenly struck by the peculiarity of what was happening. Here he was, discussing his suspicions about Draco being a Death Eater _with Draco_, and was sitting on the same bed with Draco, who had been his hated enemy for six years, drinking water with him in a comfortable silence. If, two weeks ago, someone had told him where he would be then, he would have recommended that they be carted away to St. Mungo's for specialized treatment.

"I was just thinking about how strange this all is," Draco said suddenly. Harry looked up, slightly startled that Draco was voicing the same thing Harry had just been thinking. "I mean…it wasn't too long ago that I hated you, and you hated me. It's like...this war just…it does one of two things. It either brings people together—"

"—or tears them apart," Harry finished, thinking of him and Ginny. Draco gave him a funny look.

"Yeah," Draco said softly. "Like with me and my friends, and…Pansy," he said hesitantly.

Harry stared at him. "Weren't you two…dating?"

Draco shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, with purebloods, our parents often arrange our marriages, to keep the blood line pure. I was always betrothed to Pansy. But she kind of always irritated me. She wasn't that bright. At least…she didn't act so around me. I dated her to make my father happy. Pretty much everything I did was to make my father happy." Draco gave a sort of half-shrug. "But the betrothal was broken, after I 'betrayed' the Dark Lord. Not that I really minded. I didn't much fancy spending the rest of my life with her. For a while, Pansy and I got along great as boyfriend and girlfriend. But after a while, we sort of…drifted apart. We never really had much in common to begin with. So we weren't in love. I've never really been in love, and I've always wanted to know what that's like. If I was betrothed to her, I'd always be trapped."

Harry was fascinated by what Draco was saying. Since he and Draco had been enemies, they'd never really gotten to know each other. It wasn't like they were going to chat over a cup of tea. But now…Harry was finally getting to know the boy…no, man, behind all the smirks and sneers. Harry nodded. "I kind of understand what you mean. It was like that with me and Ginny. She was just so innocent. I mean, yeah, in second year she dealt with Tom Riddle, but she was asleep for most of that time, and in my fifth year when she fought Voldemort with me, there were a bunch of others there. She hasn't seen as much. There's just so much she can't understand, and that I don't want her to understand. I couldn't really connect with her. I fell in love with her, because she's smart, funny, athletic, and loyal, and we got along great, but…."

"There was something missing," Draco completed.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, thrilled that he found someone who understood. "She's a great friend, like Ron and Hermione, but when I fall in love, I want it to be with someone who will get it. The pain, and the horror that I wouldn't want to inflict on anyone I love."

"Exactly!" Draco said excitedly. "Someone I wouldn't have to explain what I was feeling to, the horror, and anguish and grief of everything that I've gone through with the Dark Lord. Someone who already knows, and it's a part of them."

"So that they wouldn't feel resentful towards me for not sharing, and so I wouldn't be bitter because they're so innocent," Harry said.

"Someone like—"

"You."

Silence fell, and both boys turned a shade of red that would have made a beet proud. Harry began fiddling with his fingers, and Draco twisted the bed sheets. No one spoke.

"What I meant was—" Harry began.

"I didn't mean—" Draco started.

"Just someone_ like_ you—"

"Not necessarily _you_—"

"I mean—"

"No, not like that—"

"Of course not—"

They both stammered themselves into silence. Harry spoke up nervously, dying to break the awkward silence.

"Ron and Hermione…they've both told me that we need to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "I know. I heard you three arguing. Thanks, by the way, for sticking up for me. But I know I screwed up. What I did…it was wrong. I guess it's time to face up to it."

If Harry hadn't already known Draco had changed, this definitely would have cinched it for him. Draco was a lot more grown up now, and a lot more responsible. Harry felt a rush of warmth for Draco. "I'll be there for you during the investigation and your trial."

Draco stared at him oddly. "Why?"

Harry understood instantly what he meant. Why would he be there for Draco after all that had happened between them? Harry stared at Draco anew, remembering when he was Malfoy, and all the times Malfoy had tortured him and made his life, and the lives of those he loved, hell. So why was it so easy to suddenly forget it all? Harry gazed into Draco's face, and as he did realized that when he had been conversing so easily with Draco, he had forgotten that Draco was actually Malfoy, his long-time enemy. It was as though they were two different people: Malfoy, the boy he had hated for six, almost seven years, and Draco, the man he was just beginning to know and like.

"Because you're a different person now," Harry said slowly, his ideas coming together in his mind as he spoke. "You're not a spiteful boy anymore. You're a solemn, mature man, who's been through hell, just like me. Who's seen things no person should ever have to see, like me. We're both so…alike. I don't think that we ever would have been enemies if you hadn't insulted Ron. If you'd offered the hand of friendship without being rude, I probably would have accepted it. From talking to you, I get the feeling that you and I could be great friends. We were just kids then. But now we're both more grown up, and mature. People do a lot of stupid things when they're kids. But you never did anything I don't think I could forgive. Yes, sixth year was bad, but you did it because you were scared out of your mind. I…I don't know what I would have done in your situation. Maybe not the same, but I can understand why you did it. I can tell you learned from your mistakes. Ron ad Hermione don't believe me, but I can tell it's true. I'm not a bad judge of character, usually."

Draco smiled ruefully. "I guess that explains why you didn't really like me. But I understand."

They gazed at each other for a few moments, an indescribable feeling passing between them, a feeling which only two people who had hated each other and finally understood each other can truly relate to.

"We should probably go to sleep," Harry suggested softly. Draco nodded, vanished his goblet, and lay back down.

Harry went into the bathroom and changed into his pajamas. When he came out, Draco had moved over to one side of the bed. He was staring at the ceiling, his silver-gray eyes dark and contemplating. Harry slid into the bed beside him, and was startled by how natural it felt. Harry glanced over at Draco, and saw that he wasn't closing his eyes. He was just lying there, staring at the ceiling in silent deliberation. His blond hair fanned out around his head on the pillow.

"What's up?" Harry asked softly.

Draco looked at him. "Just thinking about how messed up my life is," he responded quietly. "I have no family, no betrothed, no money, because the Ministry will probably take over my rightful estate, and my future is so uncertain. When I was a child, I used to read adventure books about young wizards whose lives were so confused, they didn't know what they wanted to go back to, or what they believed. I'm like that now. Part of me wants to go back to when my parents were still alive, yet another part of me says, well, if that happens, then I won' know what I know now, which is that the Dark Lord is truly evil." Draco shrugged and sighed. "I know I've said all of this before, but I just feel so lost, stuck in between two worlds." Draco had sat up slightly by then, and was rather hunched over, his blond hair falling into his haunted gray eyes, yet this look rather suited him; he looked very handsome.

Harry tentatively touched his shoulder. "You will," he said softly. Draco nodded wearily, and then lay down, finally closing his eyes again. Harry pulled his hand back, extinguished the light, and he too lay down, falling asleep.

Unbeknownst to him, the ruby eyes of the lion ring on his finger had begun to glow. But he was not to know this, nor why. Not that day, in any case.

**A/N:** Predictable? Maybe. No telling when the next chapter will be out, and I understand many of you may not have the patience to deal with that, and I understand. However, this will(hopefully)be a good story, so I hope you'll bear through my writer's block with me. I appreciate each and every person who has done so. Also, I need a beta—my old beta's schedule got to be too much for her—so anyone who's interested need only contact me by my e-mail, I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter. I'll try to update soon! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	5. Return the Snape

**A/N:** Because of all I have to include in this chapter, it may prove rather difficult to write, but I believe it will turn out okay. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_"Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward—"_

_"DON'T—" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them—"CALL ME COWARD!"_-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Page 604, paragraphs 5&6.

**Chapter 5**

**Return the Snape**

**Normal POV**

Consciousness returned to Harry slowly. He felt exhausted, groggy, and spent. He wondered vaguely why he felt so tired after a full night of sleep, and then he caught sight of the blond lying next to him. He was frowning in his sleep, twitching slightly. He didn't appear to be having a nightmare, but it definitely wasn't easy for him to sleep. Harry gently brushed a strand of hair away from Malfoy's face, and Malfoy's eyes slid open. It was only when Harry was gazing into tired, silvery gray eyes that he remembered that Malfoy was now Draco.

"What time is it?" Draco mumbled.

Harry glanced at a clock on the wall. "Not yet six," he whispered. "Go back to sleep." But he needn't have said anything. Draco was already asleep.

Harry gazed at him for a few moments, and would have stared longer, but then—

"Harry! HARRY!"

Harry looked around at Hermione, who had come bounding frantically into his room. Harry frowned, pressing a finger to his lips. Malfoy was asleep.

Harry walked outside with Hermione, gently shut the door, and said, "What is it, Hermione?" In a careful voice, for Hermione looked terrified.

"Down, in the lobby," she gasped. "With Ron."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"It's—oh, Harry! It's Snape!"

Harry's world exploded. His head reeled, and he ran back into the room, awakening Draco.

"Harry?" He mumbled. "What—?"

But Harry ignored him. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-Shirt, after, yanking off his pajamas, he grabbed his wand and tore out of the room. Blood pounding through his veins, he practically fell down the stairs. Hermione was right behind him. When they got downstairs, Snape was engaged in a ferocious duel with Ron, while the desk clerk looked on, amazed. Snape looked almost bored as he easily deflected every curse Ron threw at him.

"Really, Weasley," he sneered, as Ron flung a hastily muttered jelly legs jinx at him. "I thought I would have at least taught you a few good spells in my class. But it seems that you failed to master even the most simple curses. Enough!" He snapped, and disarmed Ron easily. Ron's eyes widened, and he looked positively helpless without his wand, at Snape's mercy. Harry ran forward and shoved him out of the way. _Levicorpus!_ He thought firmly, flicking his wand upwards. Snape deflected this, and sighed. "I thought I already taught you a lesson on trying to use my own curses against me," he snapped.

Harry ignored him. "_Sectumsempra!_" He yelled, but Snape averted this also.

"Stop!" He shouted.

"Why should I?" Harry snarled. "You killed Dumbledore!"

"I am aware of this, Potter, but there are a few things you aren't aware of, and if you'd STOP TRYING TO CURSE ME, I MIGHT BE ABLE TO EXPLAIN THEM TO YOU!" Snape yelled.

Harry paused. He knew he shouldn't have, but he did. In that moment, Snape disarmed him. He had already disarmed Hermione before Hermione had come to get Harry. Harry stared at Snape, who was clutching four wands, and felt completely helpless. _I've failed_, he thought hopelessly. _I've failed, and now everyone's going to die, and it'll be all my fault._

"_Obliviate!_" Snape hissed, pointing his wand at the desk clerk, who instantly went off into dream land. "Now, Potter, Weasley, Granger, if you would be so kind." He gestured at the stairs. Harry didn't want to turn his back on Snape, not for one second, but he knew that he didn't have a choice. Feeling extremely frustrated, he turned around and stomped up the stairs after Ron and Hermione.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of their two bedroom doors. Fear clenched Harry's heart as he realized that Draco was lying behind one of those doors, defenseless. However, he pushed this from his mind; he had not forgotten Snape's mastery of Occlumency.

"Now," Snape said silkily. "Which one leads to my godson?"

Harry's eyes widened, but he strove to clear his mind. "What are you talking about?" He asked shakily.

"Do not play me for a fool, Potter," Snape hissed. "I'm not in the mood. I know he's here. Now, _where is he_?" Snape punctuated the last three words with a sharp poke in Harry's back with his wand at each word.

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "Why should I tell you?" Harry sneered.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Snape exclaimed, and, unbidden, the thought of which room Draco was in came to the front of his mind.

"Okay, good," Snape said, and gestured the three teenagers into the door on the left.

Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking nervous. His hair was slightly tousled, and he was still in his pajamas, but his wand was clutched tightly in his right hand, and he was tense, as if prepared to jump into battle. However, when he saw Harry, Ron, Hermione, and finally Snape, his face practically sagged with relief.

"Severus!" Draco exclaimed joyfully. He leapt off of the bed and bounded towards Snape. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked on in amazement as Snape embraced Draco. They broke apart. "It's great to see you," Draco gasped, then stiffened. "Does he know you're here?"

Snape shook his head. "I came here of my own accord. The war is escalating. The Dark Lord is preparing his attack. The light side needs me, and I need to offer my assistance."

Draco frowned, looking confused. "But—I thought you worked for the Dark Lord."

Snape shook his head. "No. I was a double agent. When I killed Dumbledore, the Light side was convinced that I'd betrayed them, and the Dark Lord thought I had finally proven myself. He discovered that Harry Potter had disappeared, and he sent me to find out what I could. But before I left Hogwarts I managed to convince Firenze to tell me what I needed to know about the war." Here Snape looked around at them all, and on his face was a look unlike most of them had ever seen. There was no trace of a sneer or a smirk, or anger. He look simply serious, and grown-up. His gaze settled on Harry, who met it unflinchingly. "Potter. I know you despise me, and for a while, I must say I felt the same way about you. However," and now Snape looked as though this next sentence had the potential to cause him extreme pain, "I realize that you are very different from your father. You are like him in appearance and Quidditch skill, and this caused a great deal of the bitterness and anger I had towards your father to transfer in my feelings towards you. I—" Snape sighed. "I apologize for the way I treated you. It was unfair and unjust. The same goes for you, Weasley."

Harry stared at Snape in utter astonishment for a few moments, but then his feelings of suspicion rose to a new heights, and he felt suspicious of Draco too. Why would two of his worst enemies both out of the blue suddenly apologize to him for years of cruelty. It wasn't as if they had been friends who'd simply had a falling-out; no, they'd _always_ been enemies. Why on earth should he believe Snape, or even Malfoy for that matter. Harry glanced at Ron, and saw the same feelings of distrust and anger mirrored there on his face. Harry glanced at Hermione, prepared to see the same, however, she didn't look suspicious or angry. She just looked sad. "Is it time, Severus?" She almost whispered. Harry wheeled around and stared in utter astonishment at Hermione. Ron did the same.

Snape nodded. "Yes, Hermione," he said, in an almost gentle voice. "It is time." Harry gazed at Snape in shock also. What was going on here?

Hermione sighed, and glanced at Ron and Harry. "Harry, there's something you should know. You should probably sit down." Harry sank to the floor willingly. He wasn't sure if his legs could have held him up any longer anyway. Ron sat on his right, and Draco tentatively began to sit on his other side. Harry glanced at him, preparing his gaze to be full of venom and anger, but once he caught sight of Draco's sad silvery eyes, found himself unable to do this. He simply nodded, and Draco sat next to him.

"Okay," Hermione began. "I'll tell what I know, and Severus," she gave Snape a fleeting look. "Will you then tell them your version?" Snape nodded. "All right," she sighed. "Might as well begin."

"Last year, when we got back to school, about halfway through the first term, Dumbledore called me into his office in the middle of the night. He sent Severus to come and fetch me. Severus was very careful and didn't wake anyone except for me up. We went to Dumbledore's office, and were able to get there without anyone noticing us. In there, he told me that Snape had informed him that Draco Malfoy had become a death eater, and was planning to kill him."

Harry's eyes widened incredibly, and he felt furious. "And all that time I was suspecting him, you told me I was wrong!"

Hermione winced slightly, but plowed on. "I had to. Dumbledore told me not to tell anyone, not even you. He was trying to protect Draco from Voldemort's wrath. He knew that if you knew you would try and deal with it yourself." Since this was true, Harry didn't argue.

"It did kind of worry me, though, and I mentioned how obsessed with Malfoy you were becoming—" Harry deliberately did not look at Draco. "—To Dumbledore. He told me he'd deal with it, and veer your suspicions away." She shrugged. "I'm guessing he tried, but you still seemed rather obsessed with your notion."

Harry blushed slightly. "He did try," Harry muttered. "I just didn't listen."

Hermione smiled slightly. "You never do. After telling me this, he told me that Severus had made the Unbreakable vow with Narcissa to complete Draco's task and kill Dumbledore if it appeared that Draco should fail. However, just when I was beginning to feel horrified and furious, like you are, I see—" She nodded her head at Harry. "—Dumbledore told me that he had instructed Snape to do this. Snape was going to have to kill Dumbledore at the end of the year, most likely. Though they were going to do all that they could to avoid this, Dumbledore realized that it was time." She stood up, and paced back and forth. She stopped abruptly, and sighed. "Professor Trelawney made another prediction, in the middle of the summer, when Dumbledore was having his palms read. It was another _real_ prediction. Dumbledore showed it to us. Severus, if you would be so kind?"

Snape carefully pulled out a little box from inside of his robes and conjured a small, waist-height table. He enlarged the box, then opened it. Out of it came Dumbledore's Pensieve. Snape set it on the table, and then touched the surface of swirling, ghostly memories inside with his wand. A small, ghostlike figure of Professor Trelawney rose out, and when she spoke, it was in that same, harsh tone she had used when speaking to Harry at the end of his third year.

"Next year, The greatest wizard alive will fall as the sixth month dies… His death will signal the end of an era, to make way for another wizard, greater than he ever was. This wizard will either be The Dark Lord, or the one with the power to defeat him. The greatest wizard will fall at the hands of one of his greatest allies. the wizard will fall…next year…as the sixth month…dies."

Professor Trelawney's form sank back into the Pensieve. "Dumbledore figured from this that it would be Severus who would be forced to kill him," Hermione said softly. "He knew he didn't have much time left, and since he wasn't one to mess with fate, when he discovered Draco's task, he told Severus to do all he could to protect Draco, even if that meant killing Dumbledore himself." She sighed heavily. "That's why he brought me in. He knew that if Snape was forced to kill him, no one would believe that Snape had done it on Dumbledore's orders. That's why he told me."

Harry stared at her, shocked to the core. Dumbledore had known he was going to die? Had gone so far as to actually _ask_ Snape to kill him, and all to fulfill a prophecy and protect Draco….

"Why you?" Harry jumped, and looked to his right, where Ron was speaking. "I mean, wouldn't it have been better if it had been…I dunno, McGonagall, or somebody? Why you, of all people?"

Hermione's gaze turned to Harry, and it was he she gazed at while speaking. "Because Dumbledore wanted you, Harry, to believe this, and he knew that if you would believe anyone, it would be either me, or Ron. He chose me because he knew that I was more composed, and more likely to keep this a secret." She ignored Ron's indignant exclamation. "And he told _only_ Severus and I for that reason. He wanted to make sure this stayed a secret, so that Voldemort wouldn't get wind of it and kill Draco."

Harry turned to Snape, and his feelings were very conflicting. "Hagrid told us he overheard you arguing with Dumbledore, saying that you didn't want to do something anymore. Was that what you were talking about? Killing him?"

Snape nodded, his black eyes inscrutable. "I had no desire to kill Dumbledore. I greatly respected him. Killing him…." Snape trailed off. "It was awful," he finished simply.

Harry nodded, and though he still did not necessarily like Snape, the fires of anger in his heart had cooled. Dumbledore had been correct: if there was anyone whom he would believe was telling the truth about this, aside from Ron, it was Hermione.

"What about Voldemort?" Hermione was speaking. Harry looked up; she had directed her question towards Snape. "Are you still going to spy for us?"

Snape shook his head. "No. As I was saying, I spoke to Firenze, and he told me that the war was coming to a climax, which would result in the death of Mr. Potter

here—" Snape motioned towards Harry "—Or the Dark Lord. It would come in the next year. He told me that the best work I could hope to achieve would be with the Order of the Phoenix, not as a spy, but as a full supporter of them. I do not often believe fortune tellers, however…" Snape shrugged. "Centaurs have always been able to tell the future very well, and I am inclined to believe one of them." He fell silent. Harry gazed at him a few moments longer, and Snape met his gaze steadily. Harry dropped his gaze down to Draco, who was steadily avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry thought that he could guess why: Draco thought that Harry would blame him for Dumbledore's death now. Because it was, after all, Draco who put the plan into effect. Harry did not, however, feel angry. All he felt was a heavy sadness. Every person in this room had gotten dragged, some way or another, into this tragedy. Harry knew that Draco had been compromised, and did not blame him in the least.

Harry gently touched Draco on the shoulder. Draco flinched slightly, but Harry spoke in a soothing, forgiving tone. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Draco nodded, but Harry could tell that he was lying. It didn't matter, though. Harry forgave him. Now it was up to Draco to forgive himself. Harry looked back up at Hermione.

"You two should probably go to Hogwarts and tell McGonagall about this," he suggested.

Hermione nodded. "I think that's a good idea." She glanced at Draco. "I think that Malfoy—Draco, should come too, and have his name cleared."

Harry nodded, looked to Draco, and saw him do the same. Harry stood up. "We should go now, and Ron, you should stay here, to keep our rooms safe. Draco, can you Apparate, or do you need me to—"

"Harry," Draco interrupted. "I don't want you to come."

Harry stared at him. "Why not?" He asked, trying not to let on how hurt he was at Draco's statement.

"Because this is something that I need to do on my own. If you come with me, I worry that I might begin to rely on you for support all the time, and the last thing I need is to be dependent upon another person. I need to know that I can take care of myself, so that if we do become friends, neither of us will become too dependent." Draco said all of this in a slightly shaking tone, and he looked rather embarrassed; his pale cheeks were tinged slightly pink.

Harry watched him as he said all of this, and understood perfectly how he felt. The desire to be dependent upon no one, even though one might have friends they cared about, if one was too dependent, they would crumble without them. And if there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that when he was fighting Voldemort, it was he alone who was fighting, and his friends couldn't rescue him, no matter how much they might like to.

"I understand," Harry said simply, and briefly clasped Draco's hands, before dropping them. "Will you come back?" He asked, giving Draco a searching look. "After you're cleared, I mean. Will you fight with us?"

Draco frowned slightly. "I think I will," he responded. "I get the feeling that I should be here, with yo—er, all of you, fighting the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded, and swallowed thickly. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, Draco leaving now. It used to be that a few months, even a few weeks without Malfoy were bliss to be looked forward to. Now he was leaving for a few days, and Harry felt as though part of his body was leaving. Harry ignored these thoughts, however.

"I'll go first, with Draco," Hermione said. Draco walked over to Hermione, and grasped her right arm. Draco gave Harry a slight smile, and waved. With a small _pop!_, they disappeared. Snape Disapparated a second later, leaving Harry alone with Ron. Harry stood gazing at the place where Draco had been, an odd feeling of yearning within him, and he wasn't sure where it had come from.

"Mate? Mate, are you all right?" Ron snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face. Harry blinked.

"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled. "Just tired, is all. I think I'll go to sleep for a little longer, and we can hang out in the afternoon, okay?"

Ron nodded. "Good idea," he said, yawning widely. "See you in a bit." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and exited the room.

Harry changed back into his pajamas and got back into the bed. Miraculously, the place where Draco had been sleeping was still warm, and the indent where he had been was still there. Harry traced the warm place silently, before lying back on his pillows and extinguishing the light. However, when he fell asleep, he unconsciously curled on top of that spot, as though the person previously lying there still occupied the space.

**A/N:** Wow, this chapter is out a lot quicker than I thought it would be. So, what do y'all think? It was mainly an information chapter; the juicy stuff is coming in the next few chapters. So, teaser? I think so.

**Teaser:**

"Why do you keep doing this, Harry?" Hermione asked firmly.

"Doing what?" Harry asked crossly.

"Obsessing over him. Last year it's because you were convinced he was a Death Eater, and now—"

"Well I was right, wasn't I?" Harry said even more angrily.

"Yes, but that's not the point," Hermione protested. "It's like you're finding any reason at all to think about him. Harry, are you—" She paused, biting her lip, as though uncertain about what she was going to say.

"Am I what?" Harry asked in a dangerous voice.

"Harry," Hermione began gently, "I think you're in love with him."

**A/N:** Woo-hoo! Lovey love love! Lol. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter! And the magic word is? Come on, you can do it! Review! YAY! We all love reviews, don't we? Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	6. Break the Girl's Heart

**A/N:** Well, here's another chapter. I hope it meets all of y'alls expectations. I dunno, I haven't written it yet! Lol. And, I was wondering, what do y'all think about Snape/Hermione? I know, I know, but I'm just curious. Maybe, maybe not. Tell me what you think in your reviews. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'"Ginny, listen…" he said very quietly, as the buzz of conversation grew louder around them and people began to get to their feet, "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."_

…._With a miserable gesture, Harry got up, turned his back on Ginny and…walked away around the lake.'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Pages 646 & 647, paragraphs 3 & 6.

**Chapter 6**

**Break the Girl's Heart**

**Normal POV**

Harry and Ron spent the few days while Hermione, Snape, and Draco were gone discussing the events Hermione revealed to them.

"I can't believe she didn't tell us," Ron said in a disgruntled voice. "She just let you continue to make a fool of yourself over Malfoy, and left me completely out of the loop."

Harry shrugged. "I think I understand why she did it, but I still think she should have told us about this after Dumbledore died. Cleared Snape's name."

Ron shook his head. "I can't believe that Hermione and that greasy git are on first-name terms."

"Well, since they were the only ones who knew about what was going to happen, they probably spent a lot of time together trying to figure out how to save Dumbledore. They would likely form a friendship. Or if not that, at least some sort of bond," Harry reasoned.

Ron made a face. "Ugh, the thought of forming a bond with Snape is so…ew."

Harry laughed slightly. "Well, I wouldn't know," Harry said, and looked down to his paper where he was doodling, bored. To his horror, he found that he had unconsciously scribbled Draco's name onto the paper. He quickly crossed the name out and closed the notebook he had bought the other day while exploring the town. It was driving him crazy, trying to figure out why he was obsessing so much about Draco, and worrying him. For Merlin's sake, it was _Malfoy_. The boy who had sneered at Cedric's death, and broken his nose. What was wrong with him? Harry quickly immersed himself in memories of Malfoy being a complete and utter twit. Yes, that was better. Harry relaxed and moved his thoughts away from Malfoy. Calling him Malfoy, and reminding himself of all the horrid things that Malfoy had done made it easier to avoid worrying about him.

Harry turned his attention back to Ron, who was speaking. "Look, Harry," Ron said nervously. "I got a letter from Ginny yesterday." Harry stared at him in amazement.

"How!" Harry exclaimed in astonishment.

Ron shrugged. "I guess that her owl was able to find us. Anyway, she became a prefect—"

"I thought that prefects were only assigned in the fifth year," Harry interrupted.

"Well, yes, they normally are, but a bunch of kids dropped out, including the female prefect for her year in Gryffindor, so she got the title instead. And she's really hoping that you can come and celebrate with her, at least for a night. I wrote her back and told her not to write again; it might blow our cover, but that I'd ask you for her."

Harry thought for a minute. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'd like that. When does she want me?"

Ron looked slightly relieved at finding no opposition, and said, "She said tonight."

Harry nodded. "I'll try and get back tonight, so that if Draco comes back, I'll be here."

"Sounds good," Ron said cheerfully. "Maybe you two can patch things up. I really like the idea of you dating her. I'd rather it be you than some I don't know or like."

Harry nodded again, feeling no desire to speak. He glanced at the clock. Almost six. "I'd better start getting ready," Harry said softly. Ron grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and left.

While Harry was showering, he thought about Ginny. Did he really want to patch things up with her? He wasn't entirely sure. Yes, she had behaved childishly over the summer, but she had been hurt. He knew that the reason he had broken up with her was to protect her, but maybe he'd be better with her by his side. Harry was still undecided as he conjured some flowers and Apparated to the front door of the Burrow. He knocked, and Mrs. Weasley opened it with an exclamation.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. "Ginny said you might be coming!" She enveloped him in a hug.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley, Harry said with a grin, feeling at home the moment he set foot in to the Burrow. "These are for you." He handed one of the bouquets to Mrs. Weasley, and she took it with delight. He heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Mum, is that—" Ginny began, and then she caught sight of Harry. "Harry!" she squealed. Harry forced a smile, but upon seeing Ginny and her flaming red hair, he felt as if someone had delivered a blow to his gut. _"The redheaded beauty is not your love, but another's."_ Agatha's gentle voice rang loud in his ears. He fingered the lion ring on his ring finger, and thought he actually heard it growl in anger when he embraced Ginny, and she leaned in and kissed him. He kissed her back, rather reluctantly though. The emotions that had run through his gut when he had seen her were very different than the ones he was used to. Instead of feeling delighted to see her, as he once had, he felt a slightly sick sensation in the pit of his stomach. For some reason, he thought of Draco. Cocky, sometimes cruel, terrified Draco, who had watched his own parents be killed by Voldemort. Harry remembered when Ginny had expressed how much wisdom she had at the end of his fifth year, when he'd thought he was being possessed by Voldemort. Ginny, who didn't have a clue, and remembered practically nothing of what had happened to her. Ginny, who had never had to face Voldemort and be tortured. She knew nothing, nothing at all. Harry felt a slight rush of anger at her, for thinking that she knew so much, when she didn't really. She didn't know what it was like to watch someone she loved die, and know that it was partially her fault. Not like Harry. Or…Draco. And Harry realized, with a rush of sadness, that he didn't want her to know. He wanted her to stay safe and protected, but he could never be with someone like her, who thought she knew so much, and had suffered, when she really didn't. And she deserved someone who would understand that, but not begrudge her her innocence. Someone rather like…Neville. Harry felt shocked upon thinking this, and wasn't sure where it had come from, but it wasn't his business who she got together with. Because he needed to end it. That night.

Harry pulled away from her, and plastered a smile on his face. That night, they ate with the rest of the Weasley family, and Harry pretended that he was having a good time. But really, his mind was a million miles away. When Harry announced that he had to leave, Ginny walked out with him.

"Sit with me," Ginny said cheerfully. She took his hand and led him over to the porch swing. Harry sat beside her. He wanted to put as much distance between her and him as possible, but he wasn't sure why, so he ignored this desire and sat next to her. He was itching to pull his hand out of hers; hers was very small, and seemed to be clutching his with a fierce force that disturbed him. Yet she seemed oblivious to this, and once he was beside her, pulled him close to her, and started kissing him fiercely. He pulled away at once, and said, "Ginny, we need to talk."

"I know that you ended it," she whispered seductively. "But I think that we could make it work." She placed her hand on his thigh, and began sliding it up his leg. "I was thinking, after the war is over, you and I could finish our education, and then, maybe, we could get married…" she pressed a kiss to the side of his face, and slid her hand even further up his leg. "…and maybe have kids." She moved her hand so that it was resting on a very sensitive part of Harry's body. Far from feeling turned on, Harry felt repelled, and it wasn't because she was discussing marriage and kids, because he quite liked the idea of falling in love, and settling down. No, it was because she was talking about him getting married to and having kids with _her_ that he was so disgusted. He wasn't sure why the thought of marrying her and spending the rest of his life with her was so repellent, but it was.

Harry jerked away from her and walked towards the porch railing. "Look, Ginny," he began nervously. "Aren't we getting a bit ahead of ourselves? For all you know, Voldemort could defeat me."

She flinched visibly at the name, but plowed on. "Maybe, but I think it's best to be prepared for the best." She smiled, and walked towards him. She pressed her body up to his, and Harry felt her breast, rather large, pressing up against him, and it was all Harry could do not to recoil. She smiled coyly, taking his disgust for pleasure mistakenly. "It gives you something to work for and look forward to." She moved his hand so that it was resting on her right breast.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked in a strangled tone. She seemed to think that this was because he was barely holding himself back from ravishing her. She was right about one thing. He was holding himself back, but it was from gagging.

"I want you," she whispered. "I think that I'm finally ready. And if you don't survive, I want to at least have been with you once."

This answer so repulsed Harry that he couldn't help himself. He shoved Ginny away from him violently. She crashed into the porch swing, and sat in it.

"What's wrong?" She exclaimed, and Harry, perhaps not wisely, answered her honestly.

"'What's wrong?'" he echoed. "What's wrong is that _I'm_ not ready. I don't want to marry you or have children with you. I don't want _you_."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Merlin," she breathed. "There's someone else."

"No," Harry said, rather tartly. "There's no one else. I just don't think it would work out between us. Last time I broke up with you to protect you. Now I'm breaking up with you to protect both of us. Look, Ginny. I love you deeply, but more as a friend, and a sister. I admire you, and I like you. But there are some obstacles that can't be overcome. I can't date you because I've seen too much, and you've seen too little. You're much more innocent than I am, and there are things about my life that you'll never understand because of that, and vice-versa."

She looked angry now. "I was possessed by You-Know-Who, if you can't remem—"

"I remember perfectly, thanks," Harry interrupted. "And I also remember that you weren't awake for a large portion of it, and I was the one who had to save you. You've never seen someone you loved die. You've never been tortured. You know nothing. And I don't want you to," he said.

She stared at him, and her face was white. "So this is it, is it?" She asked bitterly.

Harry stared at her, and a great sadness filled him, but at the same time, it felt like a great weight had been lifted off of his chest. "Yes, Ginny. This is it."

She looked so furious, Harry actually felt slightly afraid, but then remembered she didn't have her wand and relaxed. "I can't believe you, you—" She seemed unable to find a name bad enough for him. "After all those damned years of _waiting_ for you, now you have the nerve to _end_ it because of _me_? Well, screw you, Potter. Oh, I'm sorry," she corrected herself bitterly. "The _Chosen One_. Have fun with your 'chosen' life." She stalked into the Burrow and slammed the door, locking him out.

Harry stared at the door sadly. This was not the way he would have chosen to break the news, but there was precious little he could do or say to change it now without getting back together with her. Harry sighed, and Apparated back to the inn. What he didn't hear was Ginny's sobs, echoing around the Burrow, as her heart broke in two.

When Harry got back to the inn, the first thing he noticed was the amount of people in his room. Hermione, Snape, Professor McGonagall, and, best of all, Draco, were there in his room.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, looking as happy to see Harry as Harry felt on seeing Draco.

"Draco!" Harry said, and they embraced tightly. Harry wasn't entirely sure where the hug had come from—they had never hugged before—but Harry liked it. A lot.

They broke apart rather embarrassedly, but no one commented on it. Harry cleared his throat and addressed McGonagall. "Professor! I didn't know that you'd come. What are you doing here?"

"Well, Mr. Potter, I had to come. Once Miss Granger and Professor Snape explained everything, I thought that I should come and explain what will happen," Professor McGonagall explained. "Since Severus is clearly innocent, he will be staying with me while we clear his name with the rest of the order. Since Miss Granger has explained the importance of your mission, I will allow you three to stay here, and though I wish that I could send people to help you, Miss Granger has insisted that any Order members would just get in the way. So be assured of the confidentiality of your mission."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Professor," he said.

Professor McGonagall gave him a rather tight-lipped smile. "And as for Mr. Malfoy, in light of what he, Miss Granger, and Severus have told me about what occurred between him and Dumbledore, I am giving him a pass. I will keep that fact that he is on our side a secret to all except for Order members, so as to protect him from…Voldemort." She said the name with only slight difficulty. "As for where he goes now, that is up to him, though he has expressed a desire to stay here and help you three. Miss Granger said that this would be fine. What do you think, Mr. Potter?"

Harry grinned at Draco. "That would be great," he said. He carefully avoided Ron's eye, but he could tell that the boy looked very disgruntled.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "I must go with Severus to Order Headquarters. I've been renamed Secret Keeper since Dumbledore…well," she smiled sadly. "Harry, you take care of yourself, do you hear?"

Harry nodded. "You too, Professor."

She swallowed. "Goodbye, Draco, Ron, Hermione." She nodded at each of them in turn, and Disapparated.

"Goodbye, Potter, Weasley," Snape said, nodding at both of them politely. "Draco," he said, embracing the boy. His gaze turned to Hermione. "Farewell, Hermione."

She smiled, and Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Snape. He hugged her back fiercely. "Take care," Snape whispered into her bushy hair. She pulled away.

"You do the same," she said, pulling away from him and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't die," she added. He gave a slight laugh, stepped away from her, and Disapparated.

Harry said nothing, but Ron looked plenty pissed. Without so much as a goodnight, he stalked out of the room, resembling, Harry thought with some amusement, Ginny. Hermione looked aghast.

"Oh, dear," she said, and hurried out of the room, half-shutting the door behind her. Harry walked over and fully shut the door.

"Alone at last," Harry joked.

Draco smiled slightly, but there was something odd about the way he was looking at Harry. Almost like he was seeing him for the first time. The atmosphere in the room was charged and thick. Harry walked over to where Draco was standing.

"I missed you," Harry said, and he felt like the words had just come tumbling out of his mouth, without his consent. Draco looked flushed but oddly pleased.

"I missed you too," Draco whispered. Without realizing it, Harry had taken a step closer to Draco, who was slightly taller than him. Their noses were practically touching; they were so close. Harry's heart was pounding, and all thought unrelated to Draco seemed to have vanished from his mind. Draco reached up and gently caressed Harry's cheek, and Harry felt a thrill run through his body the moment Draco had touched him. Harry wanted to lean closer, and claim those lips for his own, and Draco's eyes were burning with the same, barely contained passion. Draco's hand ran down Harry's arm, and wrapped around Harry's midriff, pulling him slightly closer. So close….

Hermione burst into the room. "Harry, Ron's being—" She stopped dead at the sight of Harry and Draco so close.

Harry and Draco yanked apart quickly the second she came into the room, but the damage was done. Harry avoided her gaze steadily. She continued to stare at him, and said, "I-I should go." She left quickly, shutting the door firmly. Harry walked over and locked the door. He didn't look at Draco.

"We should probably go to sleep," Harry said softly.

"Yeah," Draco said. He was staring at Harry, Harry could sense that, but didn't look up to see his expression. Harry grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom. He changed, firmly not thinking about what had just happened. When he went back into the bedroom, Draco was already changed and in the bed, eyes closed. Harry extinguished the lights and slipped into the bed, as far away from Draco as he could be.

Neither one slept well that night.

**A/N:** Ah, young love. Lol. So, tell me what you think. As for reviews, no more of this three reviews crap. I expect at least seven reviews before I update again. Got it? Alright, Adios!

-CatJetRat


	7. Harry's Obsession

**A/N:** Merlin, I SO do not want to take finals. But I suppose that there are things in life we all don't want to do, and yet have to. Ugh, I'm looking forward to my Junior year of high school even less. I mean, who wants to go to the hardest year of their entire life? Not me. Well, maybe there's a life lesson in all. Hope you enjoy this chapter! (Not that I would know, since I haven't yet written it). Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'Harry, however, had never been less interested in Quidditch; he was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy.'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 409, paragraph 2.

_'"I never said it was all in your head," said Ron, hoisting himself up on an elbow in turn and frowning at Harry, "but there's no rule saying only one person at a time can be plotting anything in this place! You're getting a bit obsessed with Malfoy. I mean, thinking about missing a match just to follow him…" _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 418, paragraph 2.

**Chapter 7**

**Harry's Obsession**

**Normal POV**

Light was shining in through the curtains, shining on Harry's closed eyes. He opened them, squinted, and was about to cover them when he realized something. His left arm was curled protectively around a warm body lying next to him in the bed. With a feeling of overwhelming dread, Harry looked down. Yes, he was holding Draco Malfoy was lying, sleeping soundly, in his arms. Harry's eyes shot open fully and he tumbled away from Malfoy, falling off the bed. He was breathing heavily. Draco stirred.

"Potter," Draco muttered sleepily. "What're you doing?"

Harry was mercifully saved from answering this question by a sudden knocking on the door. "I'll get it," he exclaimed, and positively ran towards the door. When he had finally managed to force his shaking hands to unlock and yank open the door, his heart sank. Because there, standing with a determined expression, was Hermione.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry muttered. "Patch things up with Ron?"

"Oh, yes," she said, smiling slightly. "He's asleep right now."

Harry glanced at a clock on the wall. Eight o'clock. "I'm not surprised," he said, smiling. "Why aren't you with him?"

"Because I needed to talk to you," Hermione said frankly.

"Oh," Harry said, rather weakly; he had not forgotten the compromising condition Hermione had caught him in the night before. "What about?" He asked innocently.

"Would you mind walking with me, maybe around the town?"

Harry was tempted to say no, but in the end, decided to go with her. How could he say no? After all, when, in his toughest times, everyone else, including Ron, had forsaken him, she had been there, as his friend and advisor. If she wanted to talk to him, Harry's conscious demanded he talk to her.

"Okay," he said. "Just let me get dressed." She nodded, and he went into the bathroom and changed quickly. He grabbed his money bag, full of muggle notes, which he had obtained at Gringotts earlier in the summer, and walked out the door, after a quick explanation to Draco. They walked out of the inn together in complete silence, and were soon strolling along the streets next to the opening shops. They walked for about two hours, chatting idly. Hermione seemed to be avoiding the topic she had brought Harry out here to discuss.

"I was thinking that we should start researching curses and spells to use against Voldemort," she said conversationally. "I know you said that it's not just memorizing a bunch of spells to throw at Voldemort, but I think the more that we know, the better."

Harry nodded slowly. "It sound like a good idea," he said.

"Great," Hermione said with a smile. "Later today I'll take your invisibility cloak and go to Diagon Alley. Buy as many books on protective spells as I can."

Harry nodded, but he was already losing interest in the conversation. Silence fell, and they walked for a few more blocks.

Hermione pointed in the shop windows, trying to get Harry to look in them. He gazed without interest, and kept glancing at his watch. He felt slightly worried about Draco, being left alone with Ron, but tried not to think about it. Hermione took him into a store filled with a jumble of oddly assorted objects. It looked like a junkshop.

Harry gazed at a rather enchanting necklace that had a crystal dragon with green eyes hanging off of a silver chain. Though it was a necklace, Harry thought about getting it for Draco, considering that his name meant Dragon.

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "What's going on between you and Draco?"

"Nothing."

Hermione sighed slightly. "You just, seem to be spending a lot of time worrying and thinking about _him_."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he shot her a filthy look. He glanced at his watch again. "Anyway," he said, picking up the necklace. "I want to buy this for _him_ before we go back and check on him. I don't like that we left him alone with Ron."

"Why does it _matter_ to you?" Hermione burst out. "It's _Malfoy_, Harry. Remember? Our enemy for six years?"

"Stop beating up on him, Hermione, he's had a rough time," Harry snapped. He walked over to the cashier, bought the necklace, and they exited the shop, heading towards the inn. "Besides, I thought you were going to give him a second chance."

"I am," Hermione snapped. "But that doesn't mean I've forgotten everything that happened between us. _I_ still remember the 'Potter Stinks' badges, and the Inquisitorial squad, so why can't you?"

"Because he's grown up. He's gotten over all of that. Look, we should probably go back. What if Ron—"

"Why do you keep doing this, Harry?" she interrupted.

"Doing what?" Harry asked crossly.

"Obsessing over him. Last year it's because you were convinced he was a Death Eater, and now—"

"Well I was right, wasn't I?" Harry said even more angrily.

"Yes, but that's not the point," Hermione protested. "It's like you're finding any reason at all to think about him. Harry, are you—" She paused, biting her lip, as though uncertain about what she was going to say.

"Am I what?" Harry asked in a dangerous voice.

"Harry," Hermione began gently, "I think you're in love with him."

Harry stared at her for a moment, his mouth open, allowing the madness of this statement to sink in before he burst out laughing. "Are…you…insane?" he gasped, when he had gained control of himself.

"No, I don't think I am," Hermione said firmly. "Harry, the night he first came you were practically holding him in your lap! And besides, I saw you two last night, don't think I didn't! If I hadn't come in when I did I'm sure you two would have started kissing."

Harry shook his head at her in disbelief, trying to pretend that she wasn't absolutely right. "Hermione, you read too much into things," he said. "Draco was just hugging me. After all, he could have been sent to Azkaban if you hadn't convinced McGonagall otherwise. Besides, I'm straight. Remember Ginny?"

"Right," she said tersely. "That explains why you kicked her out of your room when she practically offered to have sex with you. All straight guys do that."

"I—well—she…I wasn't ready!" Harry blustered.

"Uh-huh," Hermione said skeptically. "What was it you even liked about Ginny?"

"I dunno," Harry said, taken aback. " She was funny—nice, I guess—"

"I mean physically," Hermione said flatly. "What physical features did you like about her? Did you enjoy kissing her?"

"Um," Harry muttered, blushing. "I mean, yeah, it's just…." Harry trailed off, and Hermione knew the true answer.

Hermione sighed. "And you didn't really like kissing Cho Chang either, did you?" Harry shook his head. "I could always sort of tell," she said wistfully. "Mainly it was just the way you looked at other boys. Most people would think that it was an appraising look, but I could tell it was more than that."

Harry suddenly remembered something. "That's why you were so intent in finding out how it was going with Cho, and why you were so serious about it!"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, in the fourth year I did wonder the most, and do the most investigating. Not that it got me anywhere. I shared my suspicions with Ron, but he dismissed them, of course. That's why he laughed so much when you first kissed Cho Chang. He wasn't laughing at _you_, but at _me_! But I think the thing that made me the most suspicious was that your fights with Malfoy always seemed more like flirtatious rivalry than out-and-out hatred. It was more on his part, though. He was always trying to provoke you, cause your little fights. You were never really very interested in finding love; too intent upon saving your life and the lives of others," she added with a slight smile. "But it was always Malfoy and Snape who get the most emotion out of you, except your feelings towards Snape seemed like hatred, and you wanted to hurt him, from what I could tell. Tell me, Harry, did you ever have fantasies about hurting Snape?"

Harry nodded. "Usually when he was being a jerk to you, Ron, or me."

"What about Malfoy?"

Harry thought about it. "No, not really. He made me angry, yes, and I hexed him a few times, but even after he smashed my nose, I had no real desire to cause him pain." Harry frowned. "Huh, that's weird. I never thought about it before. And when I performed Sectumsempra on him…." Harry let his voice trail off as he tried to find words for how awful he'd felt upon hurting Malfoy, most especially after seeing him cry like that. How it hadn't occurred to him that he was in trouble, only that he had hurt Malfoy so horridly.

Hermione, it seemed, didn't need for him to describe these feelings. "It felt like you had torn part of your heart out?" She guessed.

Harry nodded. He wasn't certain how to take this. "It can be very confusing at first," she told him gently. "I'm guessing you never even entertained the option of seeing boys as anything other than rivals or friends, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, I could be wrong. But still, think about it, will you?"

Harry was silent, contemplating. Everything she'd said made sense. The option had just never been one he'd considered. He always thought that he was supposed to liked girls. Didn't all boys? Except for those his Uncle Vernon had called 'fags', 'pansies', 'homos', and 'fairies'. As they walked back to the inn, Harry contemplated his feelings for Draco. Could Harry be in love with Draco? Harry suddenly remembered something Agatha had told him._ "Listen to the brilliant brunette. She knows what she is talking about."_ Was Draco his true love? Harry remembered the night beforehand, and how close they had gotten to kissing. That one moment had been more thrilling than every kiss with Ginny combined, and it hadn't even been a kiss! Harry swallowed, and become lost in his thoughts

When they reached the inn, Draco burst out of the door and threw himself into Harry's arms. This action shocked Harry slightly; Draco didn't seem like the type of person to throw himself into someone else's arms.

"Thank Merlin you're here," he said anxiously. "Weasley keeps threatening to jinx me if I don't leave, and, seeing as how he took my wand when I wasn't looking…."

Harry glared at Hermione. "I _told_ you we shouldn't have left them alone together." Hermione merely rolled her eyes and went in to speak with Ron, and Draco and Harry were left alone.

"So," Draco said, pulling away from Harry, who rather wished he hadn't, but had stayed in Harry's arms. "What did you and Hermione do?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just wandered around looking in boring shops. Oh," he said, remembering something. He pulled out the little shopping bag. "I got you something. I thought you might like it, considering that your name means Dragon."

Draco opened the bag and pulled out the silver necklace with the crystal dragon on it that had emerald eyes. His breath caught, but he adopted a slightly sarcastic tone. "Really, Potter, it's a necklace. Guys don't wear necklaces." Harry blushed and felt slightly ashamed. Draco seemed to see this, and his voice softened. "It's lovely, actually," he admitted. "But I wish it was a bit more, er…"

"Manly?" Harry suggested.

Draco grinned. "Yeah. Manly."

"How about this?" Harry slid the dragon off of its chain, and performed some quick wand work, shaping it into a clasp. Harry slid it onto Draco's cloak where the cloak fastened, performed a quick little spell, and stepped away.

"There," he said with a grin. "How's that?"

Draco looked down and examined the clasp, pulling it out. "I suppose it'll do," he said, pretending to be pompous. He grinned. "I'm kidding; I love it."

But Harry was not looking at the clasp. Instead, he was staring at Draco's right hand. More specifically, at a very familiar looking silver snake ring gleaming on his ring finger.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered, holding Draco's hand up to the light. Yes, there was no doubt about it. It was the same ring Agatha had shown him. The same ring she'd said she would give to his true love.

Draco glanced down at his hand. "Oh," he said, rather nonchalantly. "Early this morning, after you and Hermione left, I went for a walk and stumbled upon a jewelry shop. A really nice Muggle lady gave me some tea and cookies. She said her name was Agatha, and she showed me this ring. She said there was another part of the ring, but she had already given it to—get this—my _true love_." Draco chuckled. "She described it as a lion with rubies for eyes. She told me that I should wear it today, and I would know my true love when I saw it on their finger." Draco smiled again. "She also said I'd already met my true love, and we used to be enemies. The only enemy I can think of is the Dark Lord, and if it turns out to be him, I solemnly request that you kill me." Draco was laughing, but his smile faded when he caught sight of Harry's face.

In that one instant, something shifted within Harry. It was as though a great boulder had been moved aside, and that boulder had been blocking _something_ which was now free, though Harry couldn't figure out exactly what it was. All he knew was that unexpectedly he noticed things about Draco that he hadn't before. Suddenly, his gray eyes seemed silver and beautiful. His white blond hair looked silky and fell into his eyes in a way that was perfect for his facial features. His chin was strong, and where his robes were pressed against his skin, Harry could see defined muscles. All in all, Draco Malfoy was a very attractive man, and Harry felt a strange desire within him rise up. Some of this confusion must have shown on his face, for Draco's expression suddenly changed.

"Harry?" He whispered. "What—"

But Harry didn't let him finish. He placed a finger over Draco's lips and held up his left hand, where, on his ring finger, rested the lion ring. Draco's eyes widened infinitely, and he gasped.

"WHAT?"

But Harry couldn't let him mull it over any longer. Before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned up and was now kissing Draco gently on the lips. And what a kiss it was! Unlike any kiss he had ever experienced with a girl. Draco's lips were smooth, and though at first his lips were like ice, they soon became engulfed in the fire of the kiss. Then something began happening to Harry's heart. It was constricting in his chest, while at the same time leaping for joy. It hurt, and yet Harry could feel that it wasn't signaling anything bad. A slight gasp escaped him, and his lips opened. Suddenly Draco's tongue was brushing his, and Harry's whole body was overcome with heat, and he was trembling all over. Draco seemed to feel this, for he placed both of his hands firmly on Harry's arms. For someone who, a few days ago had been recovering from the brink of death, Draco suddenly seemed much stronger to Harry.

A throat was cleared.

Harry's head snapped up, effectively breaking the kiss. Hermione was standing there, with and expression that couldn't be called utterly shocked, but definitely slightly surprised. She was holding Draco's wand with one of her hands, and her other arm was thrown out, clutching Ron around the gut. He looked murderous. Draco whipped around, and Harry saw, for the first time since he had recovered Draco from the streets, slight fear in his eyes.

And for good reason too. At that moment, Ron shoved Hermione's arm out of the way and bounded towards Malfoy. He raised his fist to hit Malfoy, but, before he could, Harry, to everyone's surprise, including his own, grabbed Ron's arm and twisted it around behind him. Ron gasped in shock and pain.

"Ron, I'm sorry. You're my best mate, but if you ever try to lay a hand on Draco again, I will be, most regrettably, forced to hurt you."

Draco's face turned pink with embarrassment. Ron's eyes widened.

"Harry, what the hell were you doing? What about my sister? Are you gay? And why _him_, of all people?" The questions came pouring out of his mouth like wildfire. "And will you _please_ let go of my arm? That's beginning to hurt," Ron added.

Harry let go, feeling slightly guilty. "Sorry, Ron," Harry said sincerely. "I just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Now, your questions. I'll answer them in order: I was kissing Draco. What about your sister? I don't know. Because I like him. There you go."

Harry chuckled slightly at the look of bewilderment on Ron's face. "Bloody hell, Harry, how can you not know? You're seventeen, and you're supposed to be in love with my sister. And _why, _oh_ why_ were you kissing him?"

Harry shrugged nervously. "I was kissing Draco because I sort of have a crush on him." Harry turned deeply red as he said this; never in a million years had he thought those words would be coming out of his mouth. "And I don't know because I don't know. I think I might be bisexual, but I'm not sure yet. And I broke up with your sister, remember?"

"Yeah, to protect her," Ron protested. He looked deeply upset.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know. But I met a prophet, a real one," he added, in response to both Hermione and Ron's disbelieving snorts. "She knew things about me that I didn't even know. Things that have never been published. And then she gave me a ring..." Harry told them the whole story, and Draco, though still slightly bemused, reiterated with his own story.

"And Agatha was right about Ginny. She made me happy, but she never really gave me any spark. That's why I broke up with her for good last night. I knew, somehow, that it wasn't meant to be. And Draco gives me a spark. I know it sounds ridiculous and sappy, but he does. Ever since I met him, even when he was a spiteful little twit—"

"HEY!"

"—there's just always been something about him that made me come alive. He always made me so angry—"

"Yeah, he made me angry too!" Ron exclaimed. "But that didn't mean that I wanted to start snogging him, that there was some—Merlin forbid—_secret passion_." He spat his words, as though he could hardly believe that he was having this conversation.

Harry's words took on a slightly desperate tone. He couldn't have Ron reject him, or hate him like he did in the fourth year. "But it did for me! And Draco's changed. He's not cruel, or hateful anymore! I care about him."

Ron shook his head angrily. "It's not about whether or not Malfoy's changed, though I highly doubt he has. Even if he's the best human being on the planet, it doesn't change the fact that you're gay!"

"Bi," Harry corrected, feeling more and more uncomfortable with each word escaping Ron's mouth.

"WHATEVER!" Ron shouted. "It doesn't change the fact that you bugger blokes, or would like to, even if you haven't yet! And it's WRONG! Guys are supposed to be with girls, not other guys!"

Harry felt hurt immensely by this, but then remembered something else Agatha had told him:_ "Please do not fear your love, despite what the brother of your false true love might say. Your redheaded friend."_

"I like Draco a lot, Ron," he said flatly. "Nothing you say is going to change that. And it's not _wrong_. It doesn't hurt anyone or anything, my caring about him. I'm not going to change how I feel just because you say so. If it bothers you enough, you can leave. I won't stop you, or blame you. But I won't change for you."

Ron stared at him, his blue eyes blazing, for a long, hard moment. Harry's bright emerald eyes met his gaze steadily. Finally, Ron's gaze dropped to the ground. "Of course I won't leave you, mate. I just want you to be careful. And know what you're getting into."

"I do," Harry assured him. Ron nodded, gave him a quick, tentative smile, then looked away. "Come on, Hermione," he muttered. "Let's go."

Harry turned back to Draco and smiled. "Let's go back into the inn. Get back inside. It's starting to get chilly."

"Really?" Draco said lightly, walking past him. "Funny, because I don't think I've ever felt so warm in my life."

Harry blushed.

**A/N:** Aw, sweet little Harry. Well, there you go! The fated kiss! So what happens now? Tell me what you think! And I want at least ten reviews this time before the next update! OH! Teaser!

**Teaser:**

Draco frowned. "Harry, what are you doing?" He asked. Harry didn't answer; instead, he grasped Draco's shoulders with both of his hands, and pressed him back down on to the bed.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco stammered, though Harry thought he caught a bit of triumph in those eyes. Harry carefully maneuvered his leg until it was right on Draco's crotch, then he pressed lightly, sensuously. The effect was instantaneous. Draco's eyes widened, and Harry felt a considerable bit more pressure on his knee.

**A/N:** Hee hee hee. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out. Hopefully soon, but finals are pressing in on me, so though it _will_ come, it might not be for a while. Anyway, I'm not sure if this teaser will be in the next chapter or the one after that. I suppose you'll find out! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	8. To Find Love

**A/N:** YAY! Finals are OVER! And I passed them all! Okay, so maybe not Geometry, but hey, I suck at Geometry, and I will NEVER have to take it AGAIN! WOO-HOO! Oh, yeah! Life is good. Lol. ;-P. :-D.! Sorry. A bit psyched. Anyway, a new chapter! Jeez, it took long enough to gather ten reviews. I'm beginning to feel slightly unloved. Sob.. Lol. Jk. So, hope y'all like this chapter. It's a specialty I just happened to whip up! Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_"Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy, he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk_…._Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment."_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Pages 152-153, paragraphs 5&3.

**Chapter 8**

**To Find Love**

**Normal POV**

Harry watched Draco frown slightly, and place his pen between his teeth, before lowering it again. Harry loved to watch him. He would spend hours gazing at Draco; his silky blond hair, pale face accentuated by stormy gray eyes. Harry found him fascinating, and beautiful. There were times when he had a lost look in his eyes, eyes that were so kind, though they had seen things no seventeen-year old should have seen. He was indeed kind, though he could be sarcastic and cold, occasionally. For a long time his cold sarcasm had been directed towards Harry and his friends. And Harry's had been too. But now, now they understood each other. He was no longer bitter towards Harry for refusing his hand in the first year. That was the thing about Draco. He could hold grudges for a long time, exemplified by his relationship with Ron. They still didn't like each other, a large part of this being Ron's fault, for he refused point-blank to forgive Draco all the things he had done to them at Hogwarts.

For the past three weeks, Harry and Draco's main job was to find useful curses and protection against the fight against Voldemort. Harry also spent a lot of time meditating on where Voldemort may have hidden his other Horcruxes. Harry had settled on two places to check out—the old Riddle House, where Voldemort's father had lived, and his father's grave. Other than that, he was rather at a loss. He hoped that if he found the Horcruxes where he suspected they could be he might also find some clue as to where the other Horcruxes were. Unfortunately, his hopes weren't high. He knew that Voldemort wouldn't be foolish enough to do something like that.

Harry was also studying Horcrux protection charms. Hermione had braved Knockturn Alley, and had been fortunate enough to run across a few books on Horcruxes. She found a book all about how to make one, which Harry had studied to no avail; all it told was how to make one, and there was nothing on how to hide it or protect it. Harry had some luck with the other books, and had learned a great deal about the many curses one could place on their Horcrux to protect it. Unfortunately, neither of the two books had anything about how to break the curses if you hadn't performed them.

Luckily, Hermione had come back recently with two more books, both of which looked very promising. Harry was determined to study the books and learn every secret they held. He wanted to be very prepared before taking on a piece of Voldemort's soul.

And yet despite this, Harry found that he had a hard time concentrating that day. Most days he could, but on that particular day, he was enraptured by a certain cocky blond wizard who had stolen his heart a few weeks before. So, Harry continued to watch Draco. He sighed as he read through the paragraph in his new book again. He made a small note, and continued to try and read, looking for ways to break Horcrux protection curses. Harry looked back up at Draco, and sighed regretfully. He knew he should be reading his book, and concentrating on defeating Voldemort, but found he couldn't tear his eyes away from Draco that day. Draco pushed a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. Harry bit his lip, and shut his eyes tightly. He hated it when Draco did that. It seemed to be a frustration habit of his. It was especially annoying because it made Harry want to run his hands through Draco's hair himself and see if it really was as silky soft as it appeared.

Sometimes, Harry found himself in slight awe of how far he'd come. Over the weeks, Harry had slowly begun to accept the fact that he was gay. It was hard, because he'd spent his entire life thinking he was someone else. But Hermione had been there to support him, and so had Ron, though he did it rather grudgingly. Harry often talked with Draco about his being gay, and Draco sort of shrugged and sighed.

"The thing is, it was never really an option for me. I was betrothed to Pansy, see, and besides, there aren't that many purebloods left. Not procreating is looked down upon." Draco shrugged rather helplessly. "I always felt more attracted to men, but I had to forget about it, since it wasn't even possible. It's not as though my father was homophobic. It was just that he wanted me to have children."

This argument made a lot of sense to Harry, though he did wonder if two men could have children. He had asked Hermione.

"Well," she said tentatively. "I'm not too sure on the subject, I mean, I've only read two or three books on it, but I do know that there is a way to magically bond the DNA of two men, and make a potion, in which the cauldron is rather like an artificial womb, but it's very complicated, and there always has to be a person tending to the potion, or else it could turn out horridly wrong. It takes, obviously, nine months to prepare, but I'm told that, when brewed correctly, the child turns out perfectly normal, though is often male, because of the double Y chromosome. About 75 of the time the child is male. However, females have been known to result, but the potion is not often made, and records of it aren't often kept. But why are you asking, Harry?" She added suspiciously. "You and Draco aren't…?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I was just curious, is all."

The sad thing was, not much _had_ been happening between Harry and Draco lately. They still slept in the same bed, and Harry often woke up with Draco nestled in his arms, but there had been no kissing, and he wasn't sure why. Other than that, they were like a couple.

The thing that Draco did that made Harry the happiest was when he came up behind Harry, wrapped his arms around him and whispered in his ear, "Harry, we should do something tonight while Weasley and Hermione are out." It always sent shivers down Harry's spine to fell Draco's hot breath on his ear, and to have his lips lightly brush Harry's ear when he spoke.

Sadly, every time Harry thought they might kiss, Draco pulled away from him, or something else happened, and Harry couldn't figure out if that was because he didn't want to, or was intent upon making Harry so sexually frustrated that by the time something _did_ happen, Harry would be so eager that he would practically throw himself at Draco. Harry smiled as he remembered that Hermione had told him that the sexual tension between Draco and him was driving her crazy. Ron had become oddly deaf whenever they started talking about Draco, or Harry's relationship with him.

Tired of watching, Harry stood up and walked over to him. He looked up with a smile that lit up his eyes.

"Hi," Harry said with a grin. "Fancy taking a break?"

"Love to," he said, tossing aside the book and pen. Then, before Harry knew what was happening, he had grabbed Harry around the knees, effectively knocking him over into Draco's lap. Harry realized that he was straddling Draco's hips, making him feel very odd indeed. All he wanted to do was lean down and kiss those tempting lips.

As though sensing what Harry was thinking, Draco looked up, smiling lazily, and, leaning his head back into the bed (for that was what he had been lying on), smirked.

"You know, we should really head over to see Granger. She's probably back by now," he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked ever so slightly, and Harry knew he was biting back a laugh.

He started to get up, but then, Harry got mad. It had been three weeks! What was Draco playing at? Harry wasn't sure, but two could play at that game. So Harry just sat there in Draco's lap, refusing to get up.

Draco frowned. "Harry, what are you doing?" He asked. Harry didn't answer; instead, he grasped Draco's shoulders with both of his hands, and pressed him back down on to the bed.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco stammered, though Harry thought he caught a bit of triumph in those eyes. Harry carefully maneuvered his leg until it was right on Draco's crotch, then he pressed lightly, sensuously. The effect was instantaneous. Draco's eyes widened, and Harry felt a considerable bit more pressure on his knee..

"You're right," he said, smirking. "Hermione's probably back by now. We should go and hear the report."

He got up, and started heading towards the door, but before he could get there, he felt Draco spin him around, grasping him around the middle.

"What the hell was that?" He exclaimed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said innocently.

"Yes you do!" Draco exclaimed. Their faces were very close now. Harry realized now that Draco was taller than him. He'd never really thought about it before.

"No, please tell me," Harry said, now unable to suppress his evil little grin.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. "Never mind," he said, in a voice of barely controlled passion, and began to walk away.

"Wait," Harry said, reaching out. He caught Draco's hand, and Draco turned to him, an inquisitive look in his silvery eyes.

"Draco, we've been dancing around each other for the past three weeks. What's going on?" Harry asked.

Draco gazed at him, his silver-gray eyes unreadable. He walked closer to Harry, and grazed Harry's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "I don't know," he whispered. His voice sounded strangely hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right time."

Harry smiled slightly. "Draco, it's always the right time."

Draco didn't need any further urging. He closed the small space between their lips, a space which, in Harry's opinion, was way too large. Their lips met slowly, and Harry hardly dared to breathe. He wasn't sure what to do. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt uncertain, and slightly afraid. But then Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's body, and Harry, slipping his arms around Draco's neck, felt content in Draco's warm arms. It was then that Harry realized, with Draco, there was no need to feel scared, because Draco would always be with him, and there for him. Harry swallowed, and opened his mouth to Draco, offering himself to him, finally letting someone else in, truly. He began to shake slightly, like he did the first time they kissed, and, again, Draco was right there, to sooth him, and love him in a way he didn't even know existed.

Draco gently backed Harry up until the back of his knees hit the bed. Harry broke away from Draco long enough to crawl into the bed. Draco carefully lay on top of him and gazed into his eyes, stroking his hair. Harry gazed back at him, expecting to feel the same conflicting emotions he always felt when looking at Draco. But they didn't come. As Harry looked into Draco's eyes, and saw absolute love and trust shining there, he knew that where Draco was concerned, his emotions would never be complicated again.

"I love you," Harry said, and as he said the words, he knew that nothing he had ever felt in his life for anyone had been so right, and so true.

Tears pricked Draco's eyes, and he stroked Harry's hair. "I love you too," he whispered, and exhaled. "I didn't know it would be this easy," he laughed, wiping his eyes.

"What?" Harry smiled.

"To find love. And I found it in you. I never thought…not in a million years…Merlin, Harry, I love you so much." Draco wept.

Harry carefully rolled them over until he was the one on top of Draco. He gently wiped the tears away from Draco's eyes. "I love you too. I can't imagine not. Despite everything, I can't imagine not."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, and Harry had never felt more safe, or secure in his life. They fell asleep wrapped around each other, and didn't wake for many hours.

A few blocks away, Agatha smiled into her crystal ball, and let it go dark. She carefully rose up from her chair, and heard the shop door open. A young witch with bushy brown hair entered. Agatha clapped her hands in delight, and went to fetch one of her many rings on display.

"Hello, Hermione dear. You wanted to see about the quill ring?"

**A/N:** All right, now before y'all start whining about how short this is, just be glad that I'm updating in the first place, without my ten reviews. But this time I mean it! No chapter until I have ten big, juicy reviews posted. Got it? Lol. Review! Please, it makes me happy. Teaser!

**Teaser:**

"Harry," Hermione said weakly, sinking down beside him.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I went and saw Agatha. Harry, I don't think Ron is my true love. She told me it's someone else."

"Who?" Harry asked, stunned, for he had truly thought Ron and Hermione were meant for each other.

"Harry, I think it's—"

**A/N:** I'm not THAT evil, am I? Lol. So, I'll help y'all relax. It's going to be one of two people. Pansy, who is good in my fic, or Snape. Which one? You vote! You decide! Without your vote I'll decide for myself. Of course, it's not set that it's going to be Pansy or Snape. If I get a REALLY good suggestion I'll consider it. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	9. The Cup

**A/N:** I think it's time I owed y'all another chapter. All right, now that they've finally admitted their feelings for each other, we're going to start concentrating on stopping Voldemort and dealing with the Horcruxes and all that shit. But don't worry; there will still be PLENTY of H/D action, sort of. I'm not quite sure how graphic I'm going to make this. Needless to say, Harry and Draco are going to wait for a while before they make love. Aww. Anyway, here's the next chapter! I'm not sure how long this is going to be; definitely longer than any of my other fics, so far, but probably not much more than twenty chapters, or so. I don't like to make fics too long. Well, at least, I never have. I actually like them long, if they're good enough. Enjoy mí capitulo nueve! That's Spanish for 'my ninth chapter'. I think. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'There might still be as many as four Horcruxes out there somewhere, and each would need to be found and eliminated before there was even a possibility that Voldemort could be killed. He kept reciting their names to himself, as though by listing them he could bring them within reach: the locket…the cup…the snake…something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's…the locket…the cup…the snake…something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's…'_—Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, Chapter Thirty, Page 636, paragraph 1.

**Chapter 9**

**The Cup**

**Normal POV**

Harry's eyes snapped open, as the spell he'd set to ensure he would wake up early started going off in his head. He glanced at Draco, who lay, undisturbed, beside him. Harry sighed, and crept out of the bed, carefully untangling himself from his…friend? Boyfriend? Soul mate? Harry wasn't yet sure how to describe Draco in his life. The four of them had continued to spy on Voldemort and study together and work for the past three months, and it was already entering into October. Hogwarts had reopened, and sent them letters urging them to come back, but these were ignored. Ron had lived in a tense peace so far with Draco, gradually accepting that Harry and Draco were, well, going out might be an appropriate phrase for it, though they hadn't actually been out on a date yet. Hermione was much more accepting of Draco and was willing to forgive and forget, especially since Draco was being very nice, and not at all like his old self.

Harry and Draco were…getting closer. Harry had slowly begun to trust Draco, though it was difficult to separate Draco as he is, and Malfoy as he was. However, Harry started to trust Draco, and though Harry could tell that it was just as difficult for Draco to trust Harry, he was beginning to accept him. Harry began to confide in Draco, and Draco, slowly, began to do the same. Their past was still a sensitive issue, as demonstrated whenever Draco or Harry would practice spells, and the other would tense slightly. But this was becoming rarer, and Harry hoped that one day they would be able to have healed enough from being enemies for six years, almost seven, to laugh at past mistakes. But not yet.

As for their romance, they exchanged kisses, and though these were becoming more frequent and passionate, they hadn't progressed much further than that. Harry knew that it probably tied into the whole trust thing, and hoped that they would be able to trust each other completely one day. All in all, their relationship, given their past, was progressing nicely.

Ron and Hermione, however, were a different story. They were arguing routinely now about absurd, petty things. This was similar to the way they had argued before they got together only in the foolishness of what they had fought about. Such as, Ron caught her wearing a ring that had a quill on it on her wedding finger, became furious, and demanded to know why she was wearing an engagement ring, and tried to take it from her. Hermione lost her temper, and Rom ended up with boils all over his face, which she refused to cure for him for nearly a week, before he finally apologized. And there were other incidents like that, which were growing progressively heated. Unlike their previous quarrels, these were not due to the fact that they secretly liked each other. Harry was sad, but he was beginning to think that they needed to face the facts: Ron and Hermione were just too unalike to truly be happy with each other. Theirs was born of a combination of curiosity which had lasted for years, a long-time friendship, and frankly, desire. Unfortunately, all of this, Harry worried, was not enough to keep them happy or together.

Harry and Draco's differences, they had found, was more superficial than anything else. They had grown up in different worlds, with different parenting. Indeed,

their looks were almost opposite too. Harry was tanned, with dark black hair, rugged features, and bright green eyes, while Draco was pale skinned, with almost white-blond hair, and had aristocratic features, and almost silver eyes. But this was all very external, which was indeed, one of the reasons they had become enemies in the first place. Harry and Draco, however, were very alike. Once they started talking, it was hard to stop, and Harry felt he and Draco could talk about almost anything. They both loved Quidditch, and they played the same positions, liked the same subjects in school, and were both intelligent.

Harry snapped back to the present, realizing that he had unconsciously begun to stroke Draco's cheek. He felt his heart jerk. Though he admitted to loving Draco months ago, it seemed like each day, with each little fact he discovered about Draco, such as he liked to cook and put his pen between his teeth when he was thinking, and ran his hands through his hair when he was frustrated or upset, made Harry's love grow stronger. Having Draco in his life…it was a million times better than what he had thought was bliss when he had been with Ginny. They didn't even compare.

Harry turned around quickly, dressed quietly, grabbed a book and his wand, and fled out the door. He knew what he had to do, and he also knew that if he had stayed in that room with Draco another second, his resolve would have broken, and he would have fallen back into Draco's arms in their bed. Harry left the hotel, nodding at the sleepy receptionist, and crept to a back alley. He looked around carefully, and saw that he was indeed alone, which he had expected to be, for the sun wasn't even up yet, though it would be in a few minutes. Harry closed his eyes, thinking of a place he had only seen in his dreams, and turned around into darkness.

Draco stirred slowly, coming back to consciousness. Something was bothering him, though he couldn't put his finger on it. His eyes slid open, and he glanced at the clock. It was about five past six, and the sun was just barely coming up. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow, hoping to fall asleep, but he couldn't. Something was jerking at him, and he couldn't figure out what it was. He accepted defeat, yawned, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and crept from the bed, hoping to not wake Harry, but….

Harry wasn't there.

Draco stood there for approximately ten seconds, blinking stupidly, and then his head snapped up, and he was now fully awake. He frowned. Their room, which they had rented, had a sense of emptiness to it. But he had to check….

"Harry?" He called, and went into their bathroom. It was empty, as he'd suspected. He quickly used it, washing his face, and threw on some clothes, pocketing his robes. He told himself that Harry was probably just with Hermione, discussing battle tactics, but he couldn't shake an uncertain, slightly scared feeling. He burst out of his room, and quickly moved to Ron and Hermione's, and started pounding on the door.

"Hermione?" He called anxiously.

"All right, just a minute," came her voice, sounding slightly harassed. She unbolted the door and threw it open. She was still in her night things.

"Where's Harry?" Draco snapped.

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "I—I thought he was with you."

"He's not," Draco said shortly. "And he's not with you?"

Hermione shook her head, beginning to look slightly worried.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded annoyed. "What's wrong?" He appeared beside her, looking half-asleep. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Harry's missing," Draco said, ignoring Ron's irritated tone. "I woke up, and he wasn't next to me." Ron winced at the mention of their relationship, but he too looked worried.

"Did he leave a note?" Ron asked.

"If he had, do you think that I'd be here, talking to you, Weasley?" Draco snarled.

Ron opened his mouth to snarl back, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "Enough!" She snapped. "We have other things to worry about without you two starting a cat fight."

Ron made an exclamation of protest, but Hermione's words sobered Draco. He _did_ have other things than Weasley to worry about. Draco focused on Hermione. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Hermione shook her head. "We need to go look for him," she said firmly. "Go back to your place, make sure that there's no note, or anything, and then we'll put our heads together."

Draco nodded—now was not the time to argue, and Draco trusted Hermione's judgment, besides— and went back to his room. He looked around carefully, but found no note. As he was leaving, he crashed into a table of his and Harry's notes. He cursed, and began to quickly pick them up, until a list caught his eyes. It had Harry's handwriting. He looked at it, and his heart constricted in fear. It looked like this:

Horcruxes

Locket-Grimmauld Place?

Snake-With Voldemort

Something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's-Grave?

Cup-Riddle House.

Last piece-Within Voldemort

Riddle House & cup first.

Grimmauld Place second.

Grave third.

Snake fourth.

Voldemort last.

Draco's eyes narrowed. _Oh, bloody hell._.

Harry looked carefully around the Riddle House. Dust was everywhere, though shoeprints in the heavy layers indicated that people often explored the Riddle House, probably kids, looking for some cheap thrills. Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and crept up the stairs. He hadn't brought his invisibility cloak, for the reason that he thought it would be easier to move around this way.

He reached the top of the staircase and found himself facing a long hallway, and many doors. He cast a glance at the book in his arms for comfort, and performed a spell he had learnt from the book.

_"Point me, Horcrux,"_ Harry whispered, and his wand spun around on his open palm. It was almost exactly like the Four-Point Spell, except it pointed to the closest Horcrux. There were other variations of the spell which could be used to find other people, but Harry wasn't interested in those at the moment. His wand pointed straight ahead at the doorway at the end of the hall. Guardedly, Harry began to move towards the room, and began whispering spells that would show him if there were any spells waiting for him to trap him. Surprisingly, there seemed to be none. Harry began to relax. Perhaps Voldemort had thought no one would uncover his past enough to think he would hide his Horcrux here.

Harry emerged in the room at the end of the hallway. It was a simple room, with a heavy coating of dust over everything. The four-poster bed was neatly made, and there were no decorations that Harry could see, aside from a painting on the wall of an ocean. Harry scanned the room carefully. Everything seemed to be packed up in trunks and boxes that were neatly placed in one corner of the room. Harry could see no sign of Hufflepuff's cup, or something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's. Harry had thought it over, and determined that the cup, and the other unknown Horcrux was probably either in the Riddle house or in the grave. He knew that Nagini was with Voldemort, and Harry remembered seeing an old, tarnished locket in Number 12, Grimmauld Place when he had stayed in the House, and he and the Weasleys and others had been cleaning the old place. Harry wasn't sure, but he planned to check the house after he found and destroyed the Horcrux in the Riddle House.

_If_ he destroyed the Horcrux. Harry pushed this unpleasant thought from his head and performed the Four-Point Spell again. His wand spun around and pointed directly at the painting of the ocean. Harry frowned. He knew that some Muggles hide safes behind paintings, but somehow he couldn't imagine Voldemort resorting to a method used by _Muggles._ Harry walked over to the painting, wary of spells. He carefully touched the frame of the painting, waiting for the shock of a spell to hit him. He had already protected himself against spells with a special countercurse the book had provided for him which would automatically protect him from most curses placed on objects. The book had told him he might feel a small jolt though, as the countercurse destroyed the curse. But Harry felt nothing. Harry carefully lifted the painting from where it was hanging on the wall. It came easily. But the wall behind the painting—_Océano Pacifico_, Harrysaw it was called, meaning Pacific Ocean— was smooth.

Harry paused and set the painting down against the wall. He performed a special X-Ray spell the book had given which would overcome most spells protect against X-Ray spells. There was nothing behind the wall except dead spiders and cockroaches. Harry sighed, and looked down at the old, worn book in his arms. Hermione had bought the book from Borgin and Burkes, disguised as a rich brilliant blonde. She had spent a great deal of money to buy the book, which was a one-of a kind Borgin had acquired a few years back. Although no one had shown interest in the book so far, it had still been worth a great deal. Harry paid for it for the most part, but Hermione had chipped in, and so had Draco, whose name had been cleared by the Ministry a few weeks earlier, and had inherited his parent's Manor and the Malfoy fortune, which was very large. Harry had also come into the Potter fortune. His vault in Gringotts had turned out to be just a small portion of the rest of his parent's money. He had also inherited a house which had apparently belonged to his grandparents. Lily and James had lived in a house in Godric's Hollow, but had owned the house James's parents had lived in. According to the Ministry representative who had contacted Harry about his inheritance when he had been staying at the Burrow, it was supposed to be chock full of magical items and magical power. Harry had already decided that once he finished off the Horcrux in the Riddle House, he, Ron, Hermione, and Draco should go stay there, if the others were agreeable. There was really no reason to stay at the inn, spending money every day for room and board when the three of them could just as easily work at Harry's new house. Harry had had the idea that they could protect themselves with the Fidelius Charm. He would ask Professor Flitwick to perform the actual charm, and make Hermione their Secret-Keeper. Harry had thought about it, and come to the conclusion that there was no one he trusted more than Hermione to keep a secret. Draco, he still wasn't sure about…for although Harry was beginning to trust him, they still had six years of hatred to overcome, and Ron…well, Harry wasn't sure whether or not Ron might crack under torture. Hermione, he was fairly certain, wouldn't. She had kept her time-turner a secret for all of third year, and had even kept silent about Dumbledore and Snape when they had asked her to. Of all the people he knew, he thought that she could be trusted the most.

Harry stepped back, and stood in the middle of the room again. "_Point me, Horcrux,"_ he said, and his wand spun around on his hand, paused, and then pointed down at the painting. Harry mentally hit himself for being stupid, and knelt down beside the painting.

It seemed normal enough, so Harry performed a spell to confirm that it was indeed a Horcrux. If it was, the painting would glow red. If not, it would glow blue. An odd thing happened then. The painting glowed blue, so Harry thought that he must not have mastered his Four-Point Spell. But then he noticed something. A very small part of the painting was glowing red. Harry frowned and peered closely at the painting. He held the frame to steady the painting, and the tip of his thumb touched the painting's surface. The colors of the painting began to swirl, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until there was a whirlpool of colors, pulling him in. It looked rather like pictures of black holes he'd seen in Astronomy. Then he was yanked into the painting, leaving behind no trace that he had been there. The painting, which had fallen to the floor, righted itself, and flew back to the wall, leaving a cold silence in its wake.

Draco jerked to his feet and dove out of the door, slamming it behind him. "Hermione!" He cried, pounding on her door.

"What is it?" Hermione asked swiftly, the door immediately opening to reveal a half-dressed Hermione. Apparently she did not mind if he saw her in his bra, and he didn't care. He had long known he was gay, ever since fourth year, when snogging Pansy after the Yule Ball had disgusted him, but kissing a fifth-year boy named Matt who he had had a long-time crush on had turned him on greatly. Seeing a woman in her bra did nothing for him. However, he hadn't told anyone, because he knew that flirting with Pansy had its advantages.

"Harry's going after a Horcrux," Draco said anxiously. "He's going to try and take on a piece of the Dark Lord's soul without us!"

"Whoa!" Ron shouted, but it was less about what Draco had said and more about the fact that Draco was seeing Ron's girlfriend in her bra. "Malfoy, eyes off!"

Draco turned blazing eyes on Ron, a combination of fear for his boyfriend's life and disgust of his boyfriend's best friend shining in their glare. Ron visibly shrank away.

"Your supposed best friend and my boyfriend is in danger, and all you care about is whether or not a _gay man_ sees your girlfriend without a shirt on!" Draco bellowed.

Ron turned red, and Hermione glared at him. "Honestly, Ron," she snapped impatiently. "I hardly think Draco cares about my breasts." She dove back inside, pulled on a shirt, grabbed her wand, and strode out of the room. "Now, Draco," she said promptly, "Have you ever seen the Riddle House?"

Draco nodded. "Yes," he said. "When the Dark Lord was k-killing my p-parents, I saw it behind him, up on a hill."

"Do you think you could Apparate us there?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Draco said. He held out a hand. "Hermione, take my hand. Weasley, you take her hand." Draco would rather have Hermione touch him than Weasley. They did as he asked, and he closed his eyes, thinking of a place he had seen only through a haze of torture and pain, and Apparated.

Harry woke up a few minutes later on a beach. He sat up, blinking, spotted his glasses, and shoved them on. He resolved to magically fix his vision when he could. Being reliant upon glasses was not a good thing. Harry frowned, and looked around. The Horcrux was probably somewhere here in the painting. However, all he could see was the sea and the beach. Harry pulled out his wand, shifted the book so that it was resting in one of his pockets, and said, "_Point me, Horcrux_." His wand spun, and then pointed towards the sea.

"Of course," Harry sighed, and walked towards the ocean, feeling annoyed. There was no telling where in the sea Voldemort had hidden his Horcrux. There had to be a way around this. Harry walked along the beach, thinking. Voldemort would have made it so that he could find the Horcrux. So if only he knew where in the sea it was hidden, Harry would have a difficult time finding it, because there would be no clues.

Harry was still thinking when he ran into a wall. Harry paused, blinking stupidly. Of course! This was a painting. All that would exist would be what was painted. That made this a bit easier. All that was painted had been a basic front-view of the Pacific Ocean, and hadn't gone very far out to sea. So all Harry had to do was search the part of the ocean that had been painted. However, it would still be immensely complicated. Harry opened the book, and quickly found the passage he was looking for.

_One of the best ways to hide a Horcrux is in a painting, or a sculpture. The witch or wizard seeking the Horcrux would have to search a land created by the person hiding his or her Horcrux, which could be ridden with traps, and also, the person hiding the Horcrux could have hidden the Horcrux anywhere. The best thing to do when searching for a Horcrux in a painting is to use the Horcrux-Finding Spell, a variation on the Four-Point Spell. However, anyone searching for a Horcrux in a painting still needs to be very wary of traps._

Harry closed the book, and sighed. That had been the only passage in the book about Horcruxes being hidden in paintings, and it had been extremely unhelpful. Harry performed the Horcrux-Finding Spell again, and it pointed at the sea again, but this time, his wand pointed slightly to the left. Harry sighed. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all. Harry followed his wand and began to walk into the sea. Harry felt something brush up against his leg but dismissed it as a fish. Then he saw the fins. Harry froze. No less than fifteen shark fins were swimming up towards him. Harry backed away quickly out of the water, and performed the X-Ray spell. Harry felt fear grip his heart as he counted twenty-three sharks. Harry examined the sharks, and then saw something that was definitely not part of the shark's anatomy. Inside the belly of one of the sharks—Great Whites, Harry saw—was the cup. Harry groaned. He would have to kill the shark, and then somehow pull it out of the water before the other sharks devoured it. Harry devised a simple method.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Harry shouted, employing a spell he had learned in his first year. The shark with the cup in its belly rose out of the water, twisting and turning fiercely, its sharp teeth gnashing. Harry levitated the Great White over to the beach, far away from both the water and him, and lowered it to the ground. The shark instantly began to flip and flop crazily, its gills flapping uselessly in the air. Harry needed to act quickly.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Harry cried, and instantly the shark went still. Harry sighed, relieved. He had been worried that the shark would be able to bounce the curse back at him, but apparently even that was beyond Voldemort's powers. Harry performed the X-Ray spell again, searching for the cup. But it wasn't there anymore. Harry frowned, and looked back at the ocean. Yes, the cup was still in there, swimming around in another shark. Harry shrugged, thinking he must have gotten the wrong shark. He levitated the dead shark over away from the ocean and him, and levitated the right shark over this time, making sure it was the one by performing the X-Ray spell directly on the shark. Yes, there was the cup. Harry performed Avada Kedavra again, and again the shark fell dead. But the cup was gone. Feeling suspicious, Harry looked back to the ocean, saw another shark swimming around with the cup inside of it, and put two and two together. Each time a shark died, the cup vanished from its belly and went to the belly of another. Harry realized that he would have to kill all of the sharks to get to the cup. Harry looked back to the ocean, determined, and slowly began the process of killing all of the sharks.

One after one he killed, each becoming larger and fiercer as time went on. Finally, there was only one shark left. It was absolutely humongous. It was much larger than any of the others, and its size could equal about twenty Harrys. Harry swallowed nervously, but resolutely levitated the shark out of the water. He brought it around, making sure that it was far away from him, and set it down.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Harry cried, and a flash of green light flew from his wand. The shark fell still, and an eerie silence fell across the painting. Harry glanced back at the water, now devoid of life, and began to slowly, warily walk towards the shark. The cup was still there, inside of the shark's stomach. Harry said, "Diffindo," firmly, and the shark's stomach split open at the severing curse. Harry magically cleared the blood and guts away, leaving the cup resting in the shark's stomach. Harry, unwilling to touch the cup in case it had spells on it, like the locket that had cursed Katie Bell the year before, levitated the cup over to him.

Harry opened his book to a marked page, "How to Destroy a Horcrux," and read the passage there.

_While the destruction of a Horcrux is thought to be very complex, it is actually a very simple method indeed. Often, obtaining the Horcrux is the most difficult part of the process, for owners of a Horcrux have usually placed very complex spells on their protection. But the actual destruction is a fairly simple matter. First, one must perform a spell to determine if there are any spells on the Horcrux._

Harry aimed his wand at the Horcrux and executed a spell he had mastered weeks before.

"_Revealo Horcrux_!" Harry cried, and the Horcrux would glow a certain color to show how many spells there were on the Horcrux and how powerful they were. The Horcrux glowed blue, to indicate two spells of great power. Harry suck in a breath, and performed another spell to determine what they were. One of them was a spell to ensure that anyone who touched the cup would suffer instant, painful death. Harry swallowed, glad that he had avoided touching the cup, and quickly destroyed the spell. The other one was a bit more complicated. It made sure that anyone who tried to pull the spirit out of the cup with the intent of destroying the spirit would instantly be possessed by that piece of Voldemort's soul.

Harry flipped around in the book, until he found the proper counter-curse for this spell. The reason that this spell was so difficult was because it was hard to destroy the spell without bringing out the spirit. Concentrating hard, Harry performed the complicated wandwork necessary to destroy the spell without bringing out the spirit. A second later, the cup stopped glowing. Harry relaxed. Now he just needed to destroy the Horcrux. Harry looked back into the book and read on.

_After all the spells have been destroyed, one must lure the piece of soul out of the Horcrux, and then move it into a dead body. The soul will possess the body, and then one must kill the body again, which will kill the soul._

Harry grinned, but didn't relax. He knew the exact spell needed to lure Voldemort's soul out of the Horcrux. "Destrucción de todo." This spell was one of the few that was in Spanish and not Latin. It meant 'Destruction of All.' While usually used to torture people into insanity, because what it did was give the victim of the curse a vision of the world being destroyed, Harry knew it would entice the piece of Voldemort's soul into venturing out to enjoy the bloodshed and pain. Sure enough, a second later, a wisp of what looked like black smoke poked its head out of the cup and, still seeing the false vision, completely pulled itself out, wandering away from the cup.

The instant it was free from the cup, Harry trapped it. The bit of soul writhed angrily underneath the spell, and Harry quickly placed the soul into one of the dead sharks' body. The dead shark began to thrash insanely, and a second later the body rose up into the air. Its eyes had gone scarlet, and it dove straight at Harry, jaws wide. But Harry didn't give it a chance.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Harry screamed, and the eyes went blank, and the shark began to slow down. It dropped to the ground a few feet from Harry's feet. Still on his guard, Harry said, "_Point Me, Horcrux_," and set his wand on his palm. His wand spun around uselessly on his hand, to indicate that there were no Horcruxes or drifting souls nearby. Harry sighed and sank to the ground. It was done. Harry had just made Voldemort a bit weaker. Harry reached over and picked up the cup—now a harmless relic—and examined it. It truly was a beautiful thing, Harry marveled. gazing in admiration at its shining gold surface. Harry shrank the cup, placed a few protective charms on it, and put it in his pocket. That was when he noticed something. The tide had come in. And all of the dead sharks had vanished. Harry looked back towards the water, and, with a wave of panic, saw them all swimming around in there, very much alive. Harry swallowed, and saw that the water level was rising quickly. Harry tried to propel himself out the way he came, but he hit a solid wall. His heart had begun to pound, as he realized the trap too late. Voldemort had designed the painting so that anyone could come in—but no one could get out. And even if someone _did_ manage to destroy his Horcrux, which he probably thought unlikely, they would be trapped in his painting. And the water level was rising. Harry's throat went dry as he realized that eventually the entire beach would fill with water, and he would be stuck in a painting with twenty-three bloodthirsty sharks that couldn't be killed. Oh, _Merlin_.

**A/N:** Oh yeah, did I mention that there's like, a massive cliffhanger? Yeah, there is. Lol. Well, ten reviews gets you the next cliffhanger—I mean, chapter. ;-P. Lol. Anyway, I'm still thinking about whether or not to hook Hermione up with Pansy or Snape, so keep giving your opinions on that! Most people have said Snape, but I'm still uncertain about whether or not I want to do that. Anyway, Read and Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	10. Harry the Fool

**A/N:** Yet another chapter to please the masses. Lol. If you can call ten people 'the masses'. Well, at the very least someone appreciates my fabulous work. Lol. Well, here's the next cliffha-er-chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**WARNING:** **Character Death. No one important, but someone who was mentioned in the books.**

_'"But will we have a single pupil after this?" said Slughorn, now dabbing his sweating brow with a silken handkerchief. "Parents will want to keep their children at home and I can't say I blame them. Personally, I don't think we're in more danger at Hogwarts than we are anywhere else, but you can't expect mothers to think like that."'_ —Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Pages 627-628, paragraphs 8&1

**Chapter 10**

**Harry the Fool**

**Normal POV**

With a thud, Draco, Ron and Hermione landed on the doorstep of the Riddle House. Draco grasped the door handle quickly and turned it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Merlin," Draco hissed from between his teeth. "_Alohomora_!" There was a click and the door unlocked. Draco pushed the door, but it refused to open.

"What the hell is the matter with it!" Draco exclaimed, and Hermione pushed him gently aside to examine the door.

"It's just stuck," she said calmly. "This house hasn't been lived in for years. Hold on." Hermione turned the doorknob, took a deep breath, and shoved. Hard. Then door gave way and the three of them fell in.

"So that's how Muggles deal with things," Draco commented dryly, standing up and brushing the dust from his robes. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco placed his wand on his flat palm, and said firmly, "_Point Me Harry_," a handy little spell he had learned from one of the spell books Hermione had retrieved for them. It could lead the person casting the spell to the person they were seeking. The wand spun around aimlessly on his palm, and Draco frowned.

"He must not be here," Draco said. "Maybe he just went out to get something to eat, and forgot to leave a note. We might be over reacti—"

"Draco!" Hermione said. She had wandered over to the stairs and was examining something on the ground. "Come here."

Draco walked over to Hermione, frowning slightly. "What is it?"

"Footprints in the dust. I think Harry might have come here," Hermione said, glancing back up at Draco, who was shaking his head.

"Well, if he was here, he's not here now. My finding spell, which can find the person I'm looking for within a mile, didn't work." Draco paused, and thought for a moment. But he did say that he thought the Horcrux might be here." Draco began to hurry up the steps, following the footprints. "Harry might be locked in a battle with a piece of Voldemort's soul right now. I read about some Horcrux protection spells a person can place on their Horcrux which can make a person who's trying to hurt their Horcrux invisible to finding spells. Come on."

The three of them followed the tracks carefully to the room at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Ron pushed open the door and they entered to room cautiously. However, the room was empty.

"Harry?" Ron called. "Mate, are you in here?"

Dead silence met their ears. Ron sighed loudly. "Well, if he was here, he's gone." Ron turned and began to tramp out of the room.

Draco ignored Ron, though he felt his lip curl slightly at the thought of Weasley giving up so easily on his best friend. Draco scanned the room carefully, his lip curling more at the sight of the room, far too Muggle and boring for him. But Draco pushed aside these old prejudices and walked around, examining the room carefully. Nothing interesting about the four-poster bed, or the boxes and trunks around the wall. Draco had paused to inspect a desk when Hermione's shrill cry made his head snap up and his body whip around.

Hermione was standing over by a fairly large, Muggle painting on the wall of what looked like just water and sky, but her eyes were fixed on the painting and wide in horror.

"Harry!" She exclaimed. Draco swept over to where she was standing, and shoved Weasley and her slightly to the side in order to examine the painting in closer detail. There could be no doubt that the painting was moving, the little waves splashing around, and several large dark shapes swimming around quickly. There was also one, rather small shape, firing bursts of light at the other, dark shapes, which Draco realized sickly were sharks, and the smaller shape was undoubtedly Harry.

Hermione reached out to touch the painting's surface, but Draco grabbed her hand quickly and pulled her away. "Don't," he said firmly. "If you touch its surface you'll get sucked right in with him. Stand back, both of you," Draco said, pulling out his wand. Hermione and Ron backed away quickly. "I've read about these. I know how to get him out of there."

Draco began to whisper and hiss incantations quickly, moving his wand rapidly. Ron stared at him in slight fear, hand gripping his wand, but Hermione had only admiration for his spells, and a determination to learn them when they returned to the inn.

A few minutes later, Draco returned his wand to his pocket, and Ron relaxed. Draco rushed over to the painting and grabbed one end of the frame.

"Weasley!" he barked. "Come here and help me break this. Touch the frame, but whatever you do, don't touch the painting."

Ron hurried over to help Draco and grabbed the other end of the frame. "Ready?" Draco demanded. Ron nodded. "All right. One, two, three!" The two boys yanked the painting back, and it broke.

Harry backed up on the shore until his back hit the wall. And still the water came, rushing around his sneakers. Harry swallowed, shaking. His wand, gripped in his right hand, felt useless against the sharks. Harry briefly closed his eyes, berating himself for being such an idiot. He really should have brought someone along with him. The water wasn't too high yet, just up to his knees. The sharks began to swim towards him, and Harry fired an Avada Kedavra at one. It fell still briefly, but then began to swim towards him again. Harry fired curse after curse at the sharks, Unforgivable after Unforgivable, but none of them worked. The Cruciatus only managed to subdue a shark for a couple of minutes, and then they were back at him.

The water was about up to his waist when he heard someone call his name. Harry looked up, and as if he was seeing it through a window, saw Ron, Hermione, and Draco standing in the doorway of the room he had found the painting it. Relief coursed through Harry's body, and he began shouting and waving his arms at them. Unfortunately, it seemed as though they could not hear him. Frustration filled Harry, and then pain, as one of the sharks took advantage of his lapse of attention to try and bite off his leg. Harry bellowed in pain and performed Crucio on the shark, which let go of him and swam away, twisting angrily. Harry glanced down at his leg, which was still there, just badly bitten.

Harry would have to ignore the leg for now, and continued the task of firing curse after curse at the sharks, who only seemed enraged by the smell of his blood. A few minutes later, though, they began to disappear. Harry looked around nervously, waiting for them to pop up again. The water was up to his chest now. Soon he would need to perform the Bubblehead charm on himself to live. Harry kept firing curses at the rapidly disappearing sharks though, and kept his wits about him. After a few more minutes, though, there were no sharks left. Harry looked about wildly, but he didn't see them anywhere. Unfortunately the water level was still rising. Harry swam about, trying to raise his body higher, but then his head scraped the top of the painting.

Just as the water was reaching his neck though, he felt the painting give a great shudder, and all the water began draining. Harry felt himself get pulled along with it, and though he tried to fight it, he just wasn't strong enough when match with many thousand tons of water. Harry inhaled, and held his breath, surrendering himself to the flow of water, deciding that there were worse ways to die.

But die he did not. Harry fell, spluttering, onto a hardwood floor, with a great deal of seaweed and seawater coming with him. Harry looked up blearily, and saw Draco splash through the water and engulf him in a hug.

"Don't you—" Draco hissed in Harry's ear. "Ever do. That to me. Again." Harry nodded, and Draco pulled away from him, his normally glittering silver eyes a dark and stormy gray as he gazed at Harry, and Harry was reminded vividly of a time a year before when he had run across Draco in Madam Malkin's and insulted his parents. Draco looked even angrier now than he had been then.

"_What_ in Merlin's name, were you _thinking_?" Draco snarled.

Harry lowered his gaze to the ground, past reminisces forgotten. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't want to endanger any of you. I thought I could handle it on my own."

"Are you insane?" Ron asked loudly. "We've all been studying Horcruxes, and their curses. We know how dangerous they are. I thought you did, too!"

"Besides, Harry," Hermione added sternly. "We've put a lot into fighting Voldemort too. Don't you think we deserve to be beside you when you battle a Horcrux?"

Her hurt tone hit Harry's heart, and he felt his cheeks flush with shame. "You're right, all of you. I'm sorry. I know it was stupid. Next time I'll be sure to bring all of you along."

Draco's eyes still looked unforgiving. "Not to mention how much you scared all of us? And—" His voice stopped, as he caught sight of Harry's leg.

"Merlin, Harry!" Draco exclaimed. "What happened?"

" A shark bit me," Harry mumbled.

Hermione zoomed over and a second later was examining the wound. "We'll have to clean that before I can heal it. And it looks like some shark teeth might be stuck in there." Hermione murmured a few words and the wounds were wrapped up in white gauze. "Come on. We've spent enough time in this place. Draco, can you Apparate Harry?" Draco nodded. "Good. Let's go."

Hermione paused long enough to repair the painting, and vanished the water and dried the wound. Then, the four of them Apparated out of the Riddle House leaving the lonely house behind, the house where death haunted its rooms.

Harry and Draco arrived in their room on the floor a second later. Harry groaned and sat up. They were alone. Harry sighed, figuring that Ron and Hermione were in their room. Draco was gazing at Harry silently, his gray eyes dark and brooding. He let out a sigh.

"Did you at least find the Horcrux?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry said quickly. He pulled the cup out of his pocket and enlarged it. Draco's breath caught in his throat. He reached out towards it, then paused.

"Did you destroy the portion of the Dark Lord's soul that was in it?" He asked.

Harry nodded. Draco reached out a pale hand and picked it up reverently, and carefully ran his fingers over the smooth surface. He touched Helga Hufflepuff's marking on it and exhaled.

"It's beautiful," he said simply. "I can see why V—" Draco hesitated.

"Go on," Harry urged him. "It's just a name. Not saying it will weaken you. I mean, if you can't say his name, you won't stand a chance in battle against him."

Draco smiled ruefully. "But I don't have to battle him. You do. But, I suppose…." Draco took a deep breath. "I can see why V—Volde," he paused, took another breath, and said, "_Voldemort_ would want this cup to be one of his Horcruxes."

Harry smiled, and there was a knocking at the door."That's probably Ron and Hermione," Harry said. Draco stood up and helped Harry to his feet. Harry limped over to the door with Draco's help, and Draco opened the door.

It was Severus Snape.

Snape raised one eyebrow, staring at Harry's bandaged leg. "What happened to you, Potter?" He asked, only the slight trace of a sneer in his voice.

Harry stared at him, struggling with the dislike still in his heart, and finally said, "A shark bit me. It's a long story. Why are you here?"

Snape's eyes widened slightly, and he looked at Draco. "It _is_ a long story, sir," Draco said apologetically.

Snape nodded once, and said, "The reason I am here is because Hogwarts has been attacked by the Dark Lord."

Harry inhaled quickly. "_What?_" he gasped. "When? Why? How many were hurt?"

"He and his Death Eaters attacked us last night. Why he did so was apparent. He wished to collect the children of the Death Eaters Hogwarts was hiding and protecting, such as Ms. Parkinson, Mr. Goyle, Mr. Crabbe, and others. Also to find and kill me. Fortunately, he did not succeed in his attack on any of us, however, he did manage to wound twenty of the students and kill three others."

Harry closed his eyes. Twenty-three casualties. Harry allowed himself one minute of preparation, and said, "Who did he kill?"

Snape paused, then said, "Two first year Muggleborns, and…" Snape hesitated, and Harry wanted to strangle him. "Susan Bones."

Harry inhaled sharply. Susan Bones, the pretty Hufflepuff brunette who had joined the DA in his fifth year. The niece of Amelia Bones, whom Voldemort had killed. Harry hadn't known her well, but she had been a casual friend. Harry blinked several times, and said, "Does he have something against the Bones?"

Snape nodded. "Indeed. The Bones were one of the most prominent families working to oppose him in the First War. The Dark Lord spotted her on the grounds when he attacked, recognized the family resemblance, and killed her. The teachers and many sixth and seventh years had put a lot of power into the wards around the school, and managed to repel him and his Death Eaters long enough for the Aurors to arrive, and they left the grounds quickly. They were far outnumbered at that point. But Headmistress McGonagall is convinced that he will try again, and the next time with more Death Eaters. She is closing the school."

Harry stared at Snape in shock, vaguely noting that Ron and Hermione had come out of their room and were listening to the conversation. "But—" he protested weakly, "The said that they wouldn't close it as long as there was one student who wanted to learn there."

Snape shook his head, and he looked rather sad. "No, Potter. The Headmistress said that she cannot continue to run the school if she cannot ensure the protection of the students."

"Then reinforce the wards!" Harry shouted.

Snape gave him a disapproving look. "Do not shout at me, Potter. It is not my decision, and the Headmistress is set, and so are the school governors. I am sorry," he added, and his voice was almost gentle. He glanced at Ron and Hermione. "I was sent to tell you this, so that you may hear the information from me. And also because your sister—" He directed the statement at Ron, "—was injured in the Dark Lord's attack."

Ron stood up straight. "What?" he hissed. Harry also looked at Snape in some concern. "Will she be all right?" Harry asked.

"She ran to the front of the battle, convinced that she could do some good. One of the Death Eaters—Dolohov, I think—attacked her with the same Dark Arts spell he used on you, Ms. Granger," Snape said, glancing at Hermione, who nodded to him. "But she was rescued by Zacharias Smith, who took her to the Hospital Wing. He too, participated in deflecting Voldemort's forces."

Harry's eyes flickered, as what he knew of Zacharias Smith contrasted with this statement. "But I thought that his parents wouldn't let him return to the school."

"It seems that they changed their minds," Snape responded smoothly.

Harry frowned, as something occurred to him. "Do you still teach at Hogwarts?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Of course," Snape responded, looking at him oddly. "Well—not anymore, of course, since the school is closing, but I had been. Why?"

"What position do you teach?" Harry asked.

"Potions, Potter. What is this about?" Snape asked curiously.

"What happened to Professor Slughorn?" Harry asked.

"He went back into retirement when I was found innocent. What does it matter, Potter?" Snape asked impatiently.

"I just…" Harry said softly. "I was just wondering about the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Who taught it most recently?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt took up the position. The Ministry agreed to allow him to work there in defense of the school for a year." Snape looked definitely unhappy now. "It didn't help much, though. Now, do you four wish to come with me and check on Ms. Weasley?"

"Yes," Harry and Ron said at once.

"Very well," Snape said crisply. Snape glanced at Harry's leg. "You should probably be able to get that wound healed there." Harry nodded. "Gather some things for the night. I suspect you will not wish to stay long." Snape paused, looking from Harry to Draco. Draco had one arm carefully wrapped around Harry's waist, and Harry was leaning his head on Draco's shoulder. "Do you wish for me to arrange a room where you two can be together?" he asked delicately.

Harry looked startled, but Draco didn't skip a beat. "Yes, Professor," Draco said at once. "That would be excellent." Harry nodded in agreement.

Snape nodded, then turned to Ron and Hermione. Ron took Hermione's hand at once, and Harry saw a strange flicker pass over Snape's face, but he couldn't distinguish the emotion there. "And you two?"

Hermione looked slightly annoyed, but Harry couldn't tell why. "Yeah," Ron said.

Snape looked to Hermione for confirmation. Hermione gave a slight, reluctant nod, but Harry couldn't tell why she would be reluctant. Harry frowned. Something was going on, but he wasn't quite sure of what. Was there, perhaps, another secret Hermione and Snape were keeping from him for his own good? Harry didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

"Fine," Snape said. "I will wait out here for you four, and then we shall Apparate to Hogsmeade."

They all nodded, and turned and went into their respective rooms. Draco carefully sat Harry down on the sofa. "I'll pack," he said shortly. Harry could sense the tension in his voice, and could tell that Draco was still angry with him for plunging himself into a dangerous situation without any help.

"Draco?" Harry said softly. Draco tensed.

"Just…" he said in a strained voice. "Just give me time. I'm not angry. I'm just…still scared. I thought you might have died. When we couldn't find you, I mean."

Harry looked at him in slight wonder. Draco's head was bowed, his blond hair falling over the top part of his face, and his hands were clenched on the sides of the dresser. He was shaking slightly. This amazed Harry. Despite the fact that he knew Draco was falling in love with him, he still found it surprising that Draco could care about him that much, considering their past. Harry said as much to Draco.

Draco whirled around. "None of that matters!" he exclaimed. "I was a prat when I was a kid! I know that now, and I hate it, but I'm different now. You're different. And now that I'm not blinded by prejudice and hate and resentment, I can see you now, and I love the person you are, and I don't—" His voice broke. "I don't want to lose one of the few people that I care about."

Harry stood up shakily and limped over to where Draco was standing, shoulders hunched, visibly trying to avoid tears. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, and Draco hugged him back, hard. It was then that Harry truly understood what he had done. He hadn't just risked his own life, but he had carelessly ignored what pain others would go through if he died.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, and this time, he truly meant it, with all his heart and soul. "I'll never do something like that again. Merlin, Draco. I love you."

Draco leaned back and kissed him fiercely. Harry kissed back with equal intensity, feeling his heart contract in his chest again, so much that it was almost painful. But all he ever wanted was for it to come again. And as long as he was with Draco, it would. Always.

**A/N:** No, not quite as long as the last chapter. In the original outline, the story lasted much longer than that, and I included them going to Hogwarts. But I'll just include that in the next chapter, which will likely be a bit mushy. Also, you finally find out who Hermione's true love is! YAY! Lol. Well, ten reviews gets another chapter. Took long enough last time. Grumble. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	11. Death of an Era

**A/N:** I'm really starting to like this story. Lol. Well, here's the long-awaited chapter in which we finally find out who Hermione's true love is! Hope y'all enjoy. Also, I need recommendations on Ron's true love. Well, Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar_...—Harry Potter an the Goblet of Fire Page 413, paragraph 3.

_'"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back," she_Hermione_ said softly. "How can it close?..."_

_"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," said Harry._

_Ron gaped at him, but Hermione said sadly, "I knew you were going to say that_...—Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince Page 650, paragraphs 8,10, and 11.

**Chapter 11**

**Death of an Era**

**Normal POV**

Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Snape all landed outside of Hogwarts' gates with a _thunk_. Harry's leg buckled slightly and threatened to give way, but Draco grasped his arm carefully and held him firm. Harry smiled at Draco, and the five of them made their way through Hogwarts' gates. Harry looked up at the castle, love blooming in his heart at the sight of the school. Pain wracked his mind at the thought of the school closing.

To look at it, one couldn't tell that there had been a battle at the school. There was no blood on the ground, due to the fact that most Dark spells weren't about leaving visible marks. Just about pain and death, without leaving physical marks. However, there was the slight buzz of angry magic in the air, and the grass had been trampled in a way that it usually wasn't. They reached the school silently a few minutes later, and Snape opened the doors for them.

They walked inside the unnaturally quiet school. Harry looked around. No one but the five of them seemed to be in the entrance hallway. Harry looked to Snape.

"Has everyone left already?" he asked. His voice sounded too loud to his ears, as if the place he was in was sacred, and he shouldn't talk too loudly. It had the feeling of a graveyard.

Snape shook his head. He seemed to sense the atmosphere too, for he spoke rather quietly. "No, not yet. Parents have elected to come to the school and fetch their children, rather than trusting a train, tomorrow. What most do not know is that many students will be staying here because they have no place better to go. The Headmistress is providing Hogwarts as a Sanctuary for a few people. It will, however, need to look closed and be closed so that the Dark Lord does not attack it again. Many teachers are staying here. Voldemort will think that the children of Death Eaters are under the protection of the Ministry. Me as well. The school is having the Fidelius Charm placed on it, and the Headmistress will be its Secret Keeper. You four are always welcome, of course," Snape added. "Professor Flitwick is working on the charm right now."

He fell silent, and they all trudged up to the hospital wing. Harry looked around at the dark, silent halls, and felt sorrow erupt in him. These hallways may never have children roaming them in good spirits again. Hogwarts itself seemed to sense that it was being closed, and had become darker and colder. Or perhaps what had made Hogwarts so bright and warm in the first place were the magical children walking its halls. Take that away, it was just an old castle.

They reached the hospital wing, and Ron barged ahead of them. Hermione kept close at his side, but Harry held back. He wasn't sure how thrilled Ginny would be to see him after their last encounter. However, he couldn't put off the inevitable, and entered the hospital wing. It only took one glance to locate Ginny, on a bed in the middle of the hospital wing, sitting up. Zacharias Smith was sitting beside her bed on her right side, gazing at her in an odd, almost adoring way. Ron was on her left side, wringing her hand and frantically asking her how she was. She laughed and assured him that she was fine. Her blue eyes moved past him to the door, and they saw Harry.

She froze. Her stare traveled from him to Draco, standing right beside him. Her gaze slowly moved down to fix on their clasped hands, for Draco was indeed holding Harry's hand. Her eyes widened in understanding, and many different emotions crossed her face. Jealously, anger, disgust, sadness, and finally, resignation. She looked away for a moment, and Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes. But she blinked them away rapidly. She looked up, and her eyes were burning with a bright, new emotion. Acceptance. She motioned for him to come over. Harry walked over tentatively, Draco matching his steps all the way.

"I need to speak to Harry alone," she told Ron, Hermione, and Zacharias. They nodded, and Zacharias glanced at him oddly, before leaving with Ron and Hermione.

"Will you be okay?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think so." Draco smiled slightly and hugged Harry. "I'll go see Madam Pomfrey about your wounds," he whispered into Harry's ear. Harry nodded, and Draco kissed the top of his head and left.

Ginny had watched the display with thin lips. However, when Harry looked at her, she managed a small smile. She motioned to the chair Zacharias had vacated, and Harry limped over to it. Her eyes went to his leg with slight concern.

"What happened to your leg?" she asked in concern.

"It's a long story," Harry said.

"I've got time," she said stiffly, leaning back.

Harry sighed and reiterated the story in short form for her. "That was stupid," she said flatly, when he was done. "You should have had someone go with you."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I know. Draco was livid. But I won't do something that stupid again."

She nodded slowly, and then said, "I thought Malfoy was a Death Eater."

"He was," Harry said. "But he came to our side."

"Why?" Ginny said.

"That's personal to him," Harry said. "If you want to know, ask him. But he's on our side now, he's never killed anyone, and Headmistress McGonagall accepts him."

"Then I will too," Ginny said simply. She paused, then said, "I'm sorry for the way I acted the last time we saw each other. It was childish and cruel. I was just…."

"Hurt?" Harry suggested. She nodded.

"Yes, and I shouldn't have been so mean. But…Harry, you said that there _wasn't_ someone else." Her voice had taken on a slightly accusing tone.

"There wasn't," Harry assured her.

"Then what's going on between you and Malfoy?"

"Oh," Harry said, and a smile came to his lips at the mere thought of Draco. "Well, we didn't get together until after I broke up with you."

"So are you gay?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't really know. And I don't think it matters. I loved you because of who you are, and I fell in love with Draco because of who he is. It isn't about being gay or straight. I just love Draco. And I think that that's the important part. That I love him, not that I'm gay or bi."

Ginny nodded. "I can accept that," she said. "I want you to be happy, Harry, even if that means not with me."

Harry smiled, and true joy echoed throughout his heart. This was the girl he had loved. The accepting, fierce, wonderful girl who was becoming a wonderful woman. "I think that you'll always be a part of my life," he said sincerely, reaching out to grasp her hand. "But you'll play the role of friend and sister, not lover."

Ginny smiled. "I think I'd like that. And I agree with what you said when we broke up. I don't think I'd ever truly be able to relate to you. I hope Malfoy can."

Harry's smile became a grin. "He can."

At that point, Madam Pomfrey bustled over, demanding to see his leg. Draco trailed behind her, and smiled at Harry, a mysterious, loving smile that Harry knew was reserved for him and only him. Harry's smile softened into one of love, and he felt happiness fill his chest in a way that being with Ginny never had.

Madam Pomfrey healed his leg in an instance, and demanded that he go take a shower and rest. He nodded, and turned to go. But then his eye caught Zacharias Smith, standing and talking to Ginny. He looked back at Draco.

"Hang on a minute," he said.

"Okay," Draco said. "I need to tell Weasley and Hermione about the cup, anyway."

Harry agreed, realizing with a start that he hadn't yet told Ron and Hermione about destroying the Horcrux. He turned and went over to Zacharias. He tapped him on the shoulder. Smith looked up and saw him.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Harry said quietly.

"Sure," Smith said, looking surprised. He murmured to Ginny that he would be back in a minute and walked with Harry over to the windows.

"So," Harry said. "Er…." Harry paused, unable to think how exactly he wanted to phrase the question. "What happened to you?" he said finally.

"What do you mean?" Smith asked, frowning.

"I mean…well, your father took you away from Hogwarts, and you saved Ginny, and, I mean…." Harry faltered, and Smith smiled.

"You're trying to figure out how I changed so much," Zacharias said, scratching the back of his neck. He sighed. "Well, long story short, I had a bunch of epiphanies over the summer, and then, Voldemort killed one of my cousins, and I just….I realized that I've been childish, and that since I'm talented, and I learned a lot from the DA, there was no reason to waste it all."

Harry nodded. This seemed reasonable. "Go on," he said.

"And so, when I got my letter from Hogwarts, urging me to come back, I convinced my father to let me. It was my mother who made sure I could go though. I mean, there was a lot about family loyalty, and all that," he said. "And living up to my name."

"What do you mean?" Harry said.

"Well, I'm a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, and—"

"What!" Harry exclaimed. "Wait…." He stared hard at Zacharias' face, and said, "Are you related to Hepzibah Smith?" he asked incredulously.

"Why, yes," Zacharias replied. "She was my great-aunt. How do you know?"

But Harry was busy remembering Hokey the House-Elf's memory of her mistress showing Voldemort two very unique treasures. One he didn't have, but the other….

Harry carefully withdrew the shrunken, magically protected cup from his pocket, and enlarged it, lowering the protection spells on it. Zacharias' eyes widened at the sight of the cup. "Merlin," he whispered breathlessly. "Is that what I think it is?"

Harry nodded, and Zacharias inhaled sharply. "My family thought that was lost decades ago. It belonged to my great-aunt, but no one could find it after she died. She left plenty of other treasures, but this and a locket that belonged to Slytherin were her greatest. My relatives were _so_ disappointed when they couldn't find them." His gaze tore away from the cup to look into Harry's eyes. His gaze was accusing. "How did _you_ get it?"

"Voldemort stole the cup from your great-aunt years ago, as well as the locket, to use for Dark purposes." Zacharias recoiled slightly from the cup, but Harry laughed. "Don't worry; I've broken the spells." Zacharias looked slightly relieved. "I've been searching for this cup for reasons I cannot reveal to you, but since you are Helga's descendant, I thought it only fitting that the cup be returned to its proper owners."

Zacharias nodded, apparently too overwhelmed to speak. "When my family finds out…." he whispered. With great respect, he took the cup from Harry and admired it for a few moments before placing powerful protection spells on it and placing it in his own pocket. He glanced towards Ginny. "I should go back to her," he said wistfully.

Harry smiled. "I hope you two are happy together," he said.

Zacharias looked slightly startled and blushed. "Well, we aren't even together yet, but…thanks." He smiled at Harry and left. Harry walked back over to Draco, who was frowning.

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"Because the cup rightfully belongs to Zacharias." Harry smiled at Draco's annoyed look. "I'll explain on the way to our room, come on."

"Okay," Draco said reluctantly. "Severus gave me directions. Let's go."

Harry waved to Ron and Hermione, and then left with Draco.

* * *

Hermione managed to shake Ron off at their room by saying she wanted to explore the castle alone for a little while. Ron insisted on coming with her, but this made Hermione lose her temper, and asked him what part of _alone_ didn't he understand? This made him angry, and he stayed in their room in Gryffindor Tower, fuming.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt angry, confused, and hurt. She knew what Agatha had told her, and did indeed wear the ring Agatha had given her on her finger, but she still felt angry about it. Agatha was wrong, she had to be! Ron had _always_ been her true love, she thought, always. And Agatha dared to claim that he wasn't? Who on earth could it be?

She was in such a rage that, as she was sweeping down the corridors, she didn't even notice Professor Snape rounding the corner. As a result, she crashed into him.

"Ms. Granger!" Snape said angrily. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" she said fiercely. She made to go, but he stopped her, looking slightly unsettled.

"Hermione," he said, dropping into the mode they had adopted around each other when faced with the prospect of Professor Dumbledore's death. As companions, and friends, united against something. Not that of student and teacher. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She blinked them away angrily. She looked at Snape—they were almost the same height now—and said, "There's nothing wrong, Severus. I just…." and then Hermione couldn't finish, for tears were welling in her eyes again.

"Come with me," Severus said, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. She followed him to his rooms, where he prepared her a cup of tea.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking the steaming cup from him and holding it between her cold hands. She sipped at it absently, and felt instantly warm. Snape, being good at mixtures, had always made the best tea. He was also a really good baker and cook, something he kept hidden from most people but which she knew from spending time with him researching for Dumbledore.

"Now," he said gently, sitting beside her on the couch. "What's going on?"

"I…I can't tell you," she whispered.

"And why not?"

"Because…I just…." she faltered.

"Do you not trust me?" His voice may have sounded calm and collected to most other people, but she knew him well enough to distinguish the slight hurt in his tone.

"No!" she exclaimed. "I do. It's just, well…."

Severus blinked, and took her cup from her, setting it on a table in front of them. He tenderly took her left hand in his right.

"Does it have anything to do with this?" he asked, touching the ring on her finger.

She nodded. He gazed into her eyes, odd emotions flickering there. He slipped the ring off of her finger and took something out of his pocket. It was the other ring Agatha had shown her. The cauldron one. He snapped the rings together, and Hermione looked up at him. There was no amazement in her eyes. Just realization of what she should have known a long time ago. He slipped the ring on her, and it shrank to fit her smaller finger.

She gazed into his fathomless black eyes, eyes she had once thought so cold, and now there was a flickering of warmth in them. For her. He touched her cheek, and her heart rate sped up.

"You were always so brilliant," Severus whispered, and his breath was cool across her face. "Every one in my class was so foolish, but you were brilliant, and I _hated_ you for it." She frowned, remembering his cruel treatment of her in class. He tilted her chin up, for she had looked down, so that she was gazing into his eyes. "Now, I love you for it."

Hermione's cheeks reddened, but it was with pleasure. He wrapped one long-fingered hand around the back of her neck and pulled her forward. She went, and his lips met hers. Explosions danced behind her eyes, in ways kissing Ron had never done. She leaned forward into his embrace until he pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Severus repositioned her so that he was carrying her, bridal style, and took her to his bed. He ran fingers down her body, and undid the buttons on her shirt and pushed it off. He also carefully removed her bra, and stroked her breasts with his cool hands, which were steadily growing warmer. He fastened his lips on her nipples and began to kiss and suck at it. She groaned, the feeling of his mouth thrilling. She ran her fingers through his hair, which was _not_ greasy, no matter what Harry or Ron might say, and kept her hands on the back of his head while he attended each nipple. At just the right time, right before it started to hurt, he stopped, and leaned up, kissing her again. He slid off his robes and shirt, and wrapped his arms around Hermione.

"Sleep," he whispered, resting his cheek on top of her head. They slid under the covers, and she buried her face in his chest.

"I love you," she whispered. Severus closed his eyes, and a smile curved his normally frowning lips upwards.

"I love you too, Hermione," he whispered back.

* * *

Harry awoke a few hours later, after showering and curling up in bed, the warmth of it paling in comparison to Draco's arms. Harry woke in the same position he had fallen asleep in, and expected his muscles to feel stiff, but they didn't. Harry smiled. Perhaps he truly was safest in Draco's arms. Harry carefully untangled himself from Draco and put on a cloak over his pajamas. He left a note for Draco and then vanished outside the door.

Harry walked along the dark corridors, echoes of his past lingering in the still hallways. Harry reached the entrance hallway. The first time he had come to Hogwarts he had stood in this hallway in amazement and fear, terrified of how they were going to be Sorted into houses, but thrilled to be here rather than with the Dursleys. He had also stood in this hallway in his fourth year, when Peeves had hung in the air with water balloons, throwing them at the already wet students. Harry looked around, wondering where Peeves was, where all the ghosts were, in fact. Harry decided that he would be sure to ask Professor McGonagall before he left.

Harry wandered into the Great Hall, where much had happened. He had sat on a stool in front of the whole school in his first year, and begged the Sorting Hat not to put him in Slytherin. Harry glanced out one of the windows at the Whomping Willow, which he and Ron had crashed into in a flying car of Mr. Weasley's in his second year. He had lain in this hall in sleeping bags with Ron and Hermione in third year, while the school was in an uproar, searching for Sirius Black. Harry blinked away tears as he thought of Sirius, and sat down in the middle of the Hall. The benches and House tables had been stacked off to the side and were gathering dust. Harry wondered why for a moment, then remembered that most of the kids still here ate in their dormitories while waiting for their parents to come and get them.

Harry stared up at the starry night sky, so realistic that he almost shivered. Harry was reminded of his fourth year, when he had danced with Parvati Patil in the Yule Ball, and then proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the night out of jealousy for Cho and Cedric. Harry strove to remember what Draco had been wearing. Oh! It had been black dress robes which made him look like a priest. Harry stifled his laughter as he remembered this. He also remembered Pansy Parkinson on Draco's arm, and felt a burn of jealousy that he hadn't felt then.

"Oy, Potter!" A voice reverberated around the hallway, a drawling, sneering voice that Harry had learned to hate for so long. A voice he had come to dread, and despise. Now, it was a voice he longed to hear. Harry turned towards Draco, who was leaning against the door to the Great Hall, looking for all the world like the smug bastard Harry had met so many years ago. But he wasn't. This wasn't snotty prick Malfoy. This was grown, beautiful Draco, and Harry felt his heart melt at the sight of him.

Draco strolled casually over to Harry. He was wearing soft, green and silver pajamas with a black cloak around his body. He looked almost majestic, standing there beside Harry, looking down at him as if they were the only two people on the planet.

Draco flopped down next to Harry on the floor of the Great Hall. "So what's up?" he asked.

Harry smiled. "I was just remembering the Yule Ball, when you came with Pansy and I with Parvati."

Draco made a face. "Merlin. I love Pansy as a friend now, but it was that night when I realized I'm gay. Kissing her felt like kissing a dog."

Harry laughed, but stared at Draco in slight surprise. "You've known that you're gay for three years?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. I kissed another guy the same night I kissed her, and I enjoyed it immensely. I had always thought that I was just bi before then, but the night I found out who I truly am." Draco let out a slight sigh of contentment, staring up at the ceiling.

Harry said nothing, just looked down at his hands, and saw one of Draco's hands close over his. Harry looked up.

"What's on your mind?" Draco asked gently.

"Are—" Harry paused, working up the courage to ask this, and then said, "Are you a virgin?"

Draco glanced at him, brow furrowed. "Is that what you're worried about? Yes, Harry, of course I am. I've never been in love before, and I always promised myself I would wait for sex until I found someone I truly love." Draco hesitated, and then plowed on. "I love _you_."

Harry felt his cheeks redden at the implication of his statement, and swallowed. Draco said hastily, "Not right away, of course, but, eventually…."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I want to eventually have sex with you too. Harry looked up nervously. "Just…not right now. Not yet. I'm still….Not quite ready."

Draco smiled soothingly. "That's okay, Harry. We can wait."

Harry smiled back, and Draco stood up, holding out a hand to him. "May I have this dance?"

Harry frowned at him. "What?" he said.

"Well, we never got to dance at the Yule Ball," Draco reasoned. Harry looked down at the hand that was offered, and smiled. True, they had never danced at the Yule Ball, but they had hated each other then. Harry took Draco's hand, and Draco lifted him up, wrapping an arm around the small of Harry's back, and held his other hand.

"There's no music," Harry pointed out. Draco grinned.

"You don't hear it?" he questioned. "The soft, sweet melody echoing around the hall?"

Harry listened, then shook his head. "No, there's nothing."

"Well," Draco said, beginning to dance. "You just aren't listening hard enough." He twirled Harry around and then brought him back to his arms. Harry stepped in time to Draco's movements, feeling unsure of himself.

"What dance is this?" he asked finally.

"What dance do you think it is?" Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow. He spun Harry away from him, and they were linked by their hands. Draco took a step forward, bringing Harry along with him. He then spun Harry back into his arms.

"I'm not sure," Harry answered. Draco smiled and they continued to dance. As they whirled around the dark, silent hall, Harry thought he could hear the faint strains of a melody, but he wasn't sure.

With their dance, echoes of the past began to swirl around them. An ancient, beautiful past, never forgotten. Things recorded and things secret.

_Time at once and time again_

_Time will heal, and time will mend_

_Time can shatter, and time can hurt_

_Time can drag its feet in dirt_

Harry looked back up into Draco's face. Draco smiled. "Can you hear it yet?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe." He bit his lip nervously, and looked down at their feet worriedly.

The beautiful castle around them watched the dancing boys, as it had watched many before them. The magic that had built up in the castle from generations of magical occupants welled up and swirled down to surround the two lovers. It danced around them in lovely strains of music and pain, and a past soon to be forgotten.

_Some things grow greater in time._

_Others rot, and are turned in lime._

_Eras come and eras go._

_Eras are what we are, and show_

Harry swallowed, remembering his own past in the castle, the foolish things he had done, and the good. He smiled, remembering how Draco had made his life hell, trying his hardest, it seemed, to be a little prat. Draco spun Harry again and caught him. His silver eyes were intent upon Harry's face, and Harry found himself lost in silver pools. Silver and green combined, swirling around in a beautiful pattern. Draco leaned down and kissed Harry, his heart hammering wildly. He wrapped one arm around the back of Harry's neck, and kept the other on the small of Harry's back. Harry felt tears start in his eyes as he kissed Draco back and ran his fingers through Draco's impossibly soft hair.

_The greatness and weakness of humanity_

_Our courage, pride, and humility_

_The Death of an Era is no small thing._

_The utmost thing it shows is change._

Harry pulled away from Draco and smiled. "You've changed a lot, haven't you?" he marveled softly. Draco grinned mischievously.

"So have you. You used to be a runty little kid with glasses." Draco smirked.

Harry mock punched him. "Hey! You didn't let me finish. Now you're a gorgeous, grown man, who I am in love with."

Harry's eyes softened, and he kissed Draco again. The magic rose up around them, more powerful than ever before.

_The Death of an Era can be a fresh start._

_But it's also an old world falling apart._

"Do you hear the music now?" Draco whispered.

"Yes," Harry responded. "I can hear the music now." Around them, the magic of Hogwarts settled into itself, falling asleep, leaving the world finally.

**A/N:** One of my more favorite chapters. What did y'all think? Well, Read & Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	12. Moving On

**A/N:** I'm back again, with, yes, another chapter. Lol. I hope y'all like this one! Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'"Dumbledore told them their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."_

_"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. _

_"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long a the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"'_—Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, page 205, paragraphs 1, 2, & 3.

_'It was not as though he was really surprised, thought Harry, as he wrestled with a thorny vine intent upon throttling him; he had had an inkling that this might happen sooner or later. But he was not sure how he felt about it_…._He and Cho were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone talk to each other; what if the Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it?'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 283, paragraph 4.

**Chapter Twelve**

**Moving On**

**Normal POV**

Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor common room next to Ron, biting her lip nervously. Ever since their fight the night before, they had barely spoken to each other. She knew she was going to have to tell him eventually, but she dearly hoped that she could put it off for as long as she could. The two of them were waiting in the common room for Draco and Harry to arrive, so they could discuss what they were going to do next. Most of the students had left the school earlier that day, and those that were still there were being hidden in the Room of Requirement. Professor Flitwick was busy placing a Fidelius Charm on the Room. He had already done the castle, and, just to be thorough, was placing an extra one on the Room. There were going to be two Secret-Keepers, one for the room and one for the castle. Professor McGonagall was protecting the castle, and Professor Flitwick was in charge of the Room of Requirement.

Harry and Draco entered the common room a few moments later. They were walking close together, murmuring softly. Hermione allowed a slight smile to touch her face. They were meant to be, that much was obvious. They still had slight trust issues, due to years of hatred, and occasionally, Draco or Harry would say something that came out unintentionally harsh, and they would have a few awkward moments as they remembered that they were no longer enemies. But those moments were getting fewer and far in between. Hermione knew that in a couple of months, they would be past that entirely.

Draco was looking around the Gryffindor common room, a very faint sneer touching his face. It was clear he wasn't impressed.

"It's, er…cozy," he stated. Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew from Harry and Ron's descriptions in their second year that the Slytherin common room was much larger than the Gryffindor common room. However, Harry and Ron had also described it as cold and dark. Hermione thought she would take Gryffindor over Slytherin any day.

Harry and Draco sat down in the couch facing Ron and Hermione. Their hands were interlaced. Ron's mouth tightened slightly at this, and Hermione smiled slightly. She knew why this was bothering Ron so much, though Harry did not. In their first year, Harry had chosen Ron over Draco, and they had been best friends ever since then. Seeing Harry and Draco so close now must be like a knife in Ron's heart, as if Harry hadn't chosen him at all. But Hermione knew something Ron did not, despite the fact that she had told him. Ron would always be Harry's best friend. Draco was Harry's boyfriend, and they would eventually be closer, but Ron would always be Harry's best friend, no matter what.

"So…" Harry prompted. "Shall we start?"

Hermione nodded, and leaned forward. "Well, Ron and I have learned that the Death Eaters meet at the grave yard approximately once a week, though V-Voldemort is never with them."

Harry, Ron, and Draco all nodded, and she continued. "They usually meet on Wednesdays, though one time they did meet on a Thursday. I think that their schedule was just messed up that week. Since Voldemort is never with them, I'm guessing that that isn't their main meeting place. They probably meet somewhere more private. Ron and I can never get close enough to hear what they're saying, so there's really no point in continuing to try and spy."

"That sounds good to me," Harry said. "I was thinking we could go and stay and my grandparent's place, you know, the one I inherited when I turned seventeen. Since we aren't going to be spying, there's really no point in staying at the inn. Is that okay with everyone?"

All nodded their assent. "I was also thinking that we could have Professor Flitwick cast the Fidelius charm on our place too, so we can be protected there. Hermione, would you be willing to be the Secret-Keeper?"

Hermione inhaled sharply. "Me?" she gasped. "But…Harry why?"

Harry smiled. "I know you're trustworthy. You kept Dumbledore's secret for a year, and I know it must have been driving you crazy. You also kept the Time-Turner a Secret until Dumbledore said that you could remove it. I trust you."

Hermione smiled, but Ron looked furious. "What about me?" he demanded. "Don't you trust me?"

Harry's smile faded, and he glanced nervously at Draco. "Well, I do…it's just…."

"What about the Ferret?" Ron snarled. "You don't trust him enough to make him your bloody Secret-Keeper?"

"_I_ trust Harry to make the right decision," Draco said coldly. "And why should I be insulted? We were enemies for six years. We don't fully trust each other. We'll get over it, but we haven't yet. Granger's been his friend for six years, has never _abandoned_ him, and has proved herself to be trustworthy over and over again. What have you done?"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, you bloody fag!" Ron snarled. Harry froze, and Draco plunged his hand into the pocket of his robes, ripping out his wand. He leapt up, and so did Ron, who also pulled out his wand. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she saw Harry leap up and try to get in between them. She leaned back on the couch.

"Harry, let Draco get in a good curse or two," she called over the shouting of the three boys. "Ron needs to have some sense knocked into him."

Each boy froze, and turned to look at her. She ignored Harry and Draco, and trained her gaze on Ron. She stood up, and he cowered in a way she didn't think he would have if even Voldemort was coming after him.

"How could you say that?" she asked quietly, but in her quiet voice there was menace. "In case you've forgotten, your _best friend_ is a 'bloody fag' too." She sounded disgusted. She waved her wand, and Ron flew across the room and landed hard against the common room door. Hermione looked sad. "This wasn't the way I wanted to do it," she said softly. "Ron…I can't date you anymore. We have nothing in common. I love you as a friend, but I couldn't spend my whole life with you. I'm sorry. And I…I love someone else."

Ron got to his feet slowly, brushing off his robes. His face was white. "So that's the way it's going to be, is it?" he asked harshly.

Hermione nodded, tears filling her eyes. She bit her lip, and reached out to him. "Ron…please…." she said. "Try to understand. I knew I needed to break up with you, but your comment towards Draco cinched it. You and I don't…click. I would never say something like that to Draco. You would. And I just can't be with someone like that."

Ron let out a bitter laugh. "Of course," he said. "I should have known." His gaze went to Draco, then to Harry. "I always knew that the only reason you were my friend was because you felt sorry for me. Both of you. You think of me as some bumbling, idiotic fool with nothing to offer except friendship, don't you? I'm just extra weight. I always have been." Hermione stared at Ron, a lump in her throat. Draco was silent, and Harry looked as if his world was crumbling. No one said anything. "Of course," he repeated. He looked from Harry to Hermione. "Hermione was the brilliant one, Harry was the brave one, and I was just the stupid, poor idiot. And now you have _Draco_," he sneered, in a perfect imitation of Draco. "The cunning one. Well, that's just brilliant. Now you don't have any weak links." He turned to leave.

"Ron—" Harry began.

"Just bugger off, Harry," he snarled, and swept out of the room.

Hermione sank to her knees, tears in her eyes. Harry fell back against the couch. Draco looked down at him uncertainly. Harry shook his head. "I need to talk to Hermione alone, okay, Draco?" Draco nodded, squeezed Harry's hand, and left.

Hermione and Harry sat in silence for a few moments, and then Harry spoke. "You went to Agatha, didn't you?" he asked tiredly.

Hermione nodded, and pulled her quill ring out of her pocket and slipped it on her finger. "Ron and I were having trouble, and after one of our fights I went for a walk around town, and I saw this ring in a shop window. I loved it, and so I went inside. Agatha told me that my true love wasn't Ron, but someone else. I didn't know who it was until last night."

"And who is your true love?" Harry asked, though he thought he already knew.

Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor. "Harry—please don't hate me," she whispered. But it's—"

"It's Snape," Harry said, "Isn't it?"

Hermione inhaled sharply. "How did you know?"

"I saw the way he looked at you," Harry said. "Especially when Ron took your hand, and I knew that he knew. I didn't want it to be, but…." He took a deep breath. "Hermione," he said. "I don't hate you. I love you. You've been supportive of me and Draco ever since we got together. It wouldn't be fair of me to not show you equal support. I just wish we knew what to do about Ron. I don't think he meant to call Draco that. I think that he's just had a lot of pent-up emotions ever since Draco and I got together, and they all came out today. And I'm partially to blame too. I haven't been paying much attention to him lately. I've been kind of caught up in my own world, and I took him for granted."

"If you've been ignoring him then you've been ignoring me too," Hermione said angrily. "And I don't feel ignored. Don't blame yourself for what's really just his problem. He just needs to get over himself, and I think he'll be fine." Harry nodded, but he didn't look like he believed her. Hermione smiled sadly. "Now I think we have a favor to ask of Professor Flitwick."

Harry nodded, and stood up, taking her hand. He pulled her up, kissed her on the cheek, and they went to go and look for Professor Flitwick.

* * *

Ron ran out to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. The second he reached the point where he could Apparate, he Apparated back to the inn. He threw his belongings together furiously, muttering underneath his breath the entire time. Tears were in his eyes, but he blinked them back. Harry and Malfoy could cry, because they were pansies. Ron was a real man. He wouldn't allow himself to cry. He shrank his belongings, and fled out of the inn. He needed to take a walk to cool off before he went back to his home. 

An hour later, Ron found himself still wandering the streets, blankly looking into the shop windows. Rain clouds covered the sky. He felt like scum. No, worse. Scum was better than him. He had called his best friend's boyfriend a fag. He might as well have called Harry himself a fag. He had thought of them both as pansies. Ron slowed down, and he trudged along, feeling terrible. He had lost his best friend and his girlfriend in the space of a few minutes. The two people who had truly cared about him. Worse, he had insulted them horridly while doing so.

Ron caught sight of the jewelry shop where Harry had found the woman who told him who his soul mate was. It was probably the same place where Hermione had discovered that she and he weren't meant to be. A great hatred rose up inside him, and he banged inside the shop, ready to give the old woman, whoever she was, a piece of his mind.

He looked around frantically, energy back in his bones. Less than a minute later, an old woman who looked like the old bat Trelawney emerged from the depths of the shop. Her expression was grave.

"Hello, Ron," she said gently. Ron didn't bother to ask how she knew his name.

"It's all your fault," he spat. "It's your fault that that Ferret Malfoy is in Harry's life, it's your fault Hermione broke up with me, and it's your fault I'm feeling worse than I've ever felt before."

Her gaze was sharp, and cold. "You might find this hard to believe, Ronald, but Hermione would have stopped dating you eventually, whether I came in or not, and your friend Harry fell for Draco before he knew that Draco was his true love. I just made it easier on the two of them. You should have been happy for them, instead of sneering because they were different from you. Because of your stupidity, you have lost the two people who mean the most to you."

Ron felt winded, like she'd punched him. She had just voiced the very thing he himself had been thinking. He sat down in a chair that had conveniently appeared right behind him. He stared at the dusty floor, tears in his eyes.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered in a broken voice. He was vaguely aware of Agatha bustling around.

"First," she said briskly, "You're going to cry. Even the most macho of men cry occasionally." At that instant, the tears he had been resisting welled up and splashed over his freckled cheeks. Agatha handed him a handkerchief. "Second, you're going to apologize for bursting in on my shop and blaming me for your mistakes."

Ron looked up, tears still on his cheeks, and he said, meaning it, "I'm sorry. I was just…upset."

"I know," she said, and, now that he had apologized, she looked a bit more gentle. "Everyone is allowed a breaking point. But that does not mean that they shouldn't apologize for their actions afterwards." Ron nodded numbly. "Third, you're going to drink some tea." She handed him a cup, and he took a sip of the surprisingly good tea. "And now, I'm going to do for you what I did for Harry, Draco, and Hermione." Ron looked up, and she was holding a red cushion in her hands. A ring that had a golden dog on it rested on top of it. "Because everyone deserves a little happiness." Ron set his cup of tea down on a table that also conveniently happened to be beside him. He picked up the ring. It was a beautiful thing. The tail of the dog was the band of the ring. He slipped the ring on his left ring finger. It fit perfectly, of course. He closed his eyes.

"Harry's was a lion, for bravery. Draco's was a serpent, for his cunning and deadly nature. Hermione's was a quill, for her brilliance as a scholar. Severus's was a cauldron, for his brilliance in potions." Ron's head snapped up. "What!" he exclaimed. "_Snape_ is Hermione's true love?"

"Yes, he is," she said gently. "He and she are both brilliant, and they match each other perfectly."

"But he's like—twenty years older than her!" Ron exclaimed.

Agatha smiled. "Yes, but he will invent a potion to keep him at the same age he is now until Hermione reaches his age, so the difference will become minimal, then nonexistent, in time. Do not tell him of this potion. He must invent it on his own time, of his own idea."

Ron stared at her, and knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He lowered his head, nodded, and said, "I hope she's happy with him." Agatha smiled.

"That's a better attitude to take," she said cheerfully. "Now, as I was saying, your ring is a dog, to represent loyalty." Ron nodded.

"That makes sense," he said softly. "I'll always try and be loyal to my friends."

"Now, your true love is, like Harry and Hermione's, someone you must discover on your own," she said.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Ron asked faintly.

Agatha laughed. "Yes, it is a girl. Don't worry. You're straight." Ron looked relieved, and she continued on. "You shall find your true love shortly, I believe. Before the war is over. Perhaps in a few months."

"Have I met her before?" Ron asked quickly. Agatha hesitated.

"Well, yes. You might not think it is her at first, but once you see this ring on her finger, you will know it is she. Please do not fight it." Agatha, at 'this ring', had pulled out a blue cushion. Resting on it was a platinum cuckoo bird with sapphire eyes. She combined both the dog and bird rings, and they snapped together. They both made a very beautiful ring. Ron smiled, put it on, and took it off, separating the rings. He handed the bird one back to her.

"I will tell you what I told Hermione and Harry. When you two marry, switch rings," Agatha said. Ron nodded. "Now, the last thing you must do, is leave this place, go back to your inn, wait for Harry, Draco, and Hermione to arrive, and apologize to all three of them."

Ron nodded, a lump in his throat. "What do I say to them?" he asked nervously. Agatha gave him a stern look.

"That is for you to figure out. You got yourself into that mess, you can get yourself out." Ron sighed, but agreed.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For the ring, and for helping me see sense." Agatha smiled.

"It's my job to help foolish children find their way," she said gently. "Farewell. We may yet meet again."

Ron got up, nodded at her, and left. When he emerged from the shop, the clouds were gone, and the sun was shining. Ron let it wash over him, and smiled. Maybe he wasn't so lost, after all.

* * *

Harry and Draco met in front of their room. Draco had their belongings shrunk and in his pocket. He handed Harry his and Harry took them with a nod of his head. 

"Flitwick agreed to perform the Fidelius Charm on my grandparent's place," Harry told Draco. "He said he'll do it tomorrow, because he's too tired to do it today." Draco nodded, hesitated, and said, "Harry…I'm sorry about what happened with Weasley. I didn't want it to go so far."

Harry shook his head. "It isn't your fault, Draco," Harry said softly. "I just hope that he doesn't hate me forever."

Draco seemed unable to respond to this, so he just took Harry in his arms. Harry went willingly, relieved to have someone hold him instead of the other way around, the way it had always been with Ginny. Draco tangled his hand in Harry's hair, leaning his forehead against Harry's. There was nothing he could say to make the situation better, he knew that much. He hadn't liked Weasley, or known him very well. Everything he wanted to say, about Weasley not being good enough for Harry, would have just made Harry angry, or upset, and Draco very much so did not want that. So he kept his smartass mouth shut for once, and just held Harry. He was getting over his stupid attitude from their school days, but traces of his old cockiness still lingered. Some of it he liked, but the cruel comments, at least towards Harry, those Harry cared about, and those he himself cared about, needed to go.

When he had left the Gryffindor common room—which, by the way, _badly_ needed a makeover, he had gone to the Slytherin common room, and had caught up with Pansy, Millicent, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle were as stupid as ever, but were smart enough to know not to join Voldemort. Draco felt affection for them, since he had known them since childhood, but knew that they weren't his equals. Blaise was his friend, but he had also been shaken by Voldemort's attacks, and had changed, much like he had, for Voldemort had killed his mother for refusing to join him. He had inherited a large fortune, but that didn't erase what Voldemort had done. He had vowed revenge, much like Draco, and had dropped his old prejudices.

Pansy and Millicent's parents had been Death Eaters, but they had abandoned Voldemort, joined the Order of the Phoenix, and were currently in hiding. Pansy and Millicent had fallen in love shortly after they had both turned seventeen. Pansy had been an unfortunate-looking child with a pug-like face, but as she had lost weight, had blossomed into a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. Millicent had always been very butch, and though as a child that had made her look rather foolish, now she looked strong and beautiful, with long black hair. They made a beautiful couple. Pansy and Draco had both known that the other was gay, though they had hidden it from their parents on the pretense that they were dating each other. Draco had faithfully kept Pansy's secret, even though he had already come out.

As for Harry…his friends were rather uncertain about it, but it was mostly because they were worried that Harry would hurt him, but after assuring them that Harry was his true love, they had seemed satisfied. Seeing his friends had been wonderful, though a little saddening. It was sad to know how much they had all suffered, and changed for it. The good thing was, they had all seemed to change in the same way, so they were still friends.

Harry pulled away from Draco a few moments later. "Come on," he mumbled. "We have to go talk to Professor McGonagall before we leave." Draco nodded, and they walked off.

* * *

Hermione left Harry after they had determined that yes, indeed, Professor Flitwick was willing to cast the charm. She knew that Harry was going to speak with Draco. She, on the other hand, needed to speak to Severus. 

Hermione went to Severus' private rooms and knocked softly on the door. A cold voice said, "Enter." She did.

When he saw who it was, Severus dropped his cold demeanor instantly. "Hermione!" he said, in a voice that only she could tell was happy, and he quickly slid out from behind his desk and swept over to her, engulfing her in his arms. She hugged him back, and leaned her head up for a kiss. He obliged rapidly, and suddenly, her heart was speeding up, and her face felt flushed again with pleasure. She smiled around his lips, they kissed a few moments longer, and then he pulled away.

"How are you?" he asked gently, stroking her bushy hair away from her face. She smiled again.

"Fine," she said, walking over to his couch and sitting on it. He sat beside her. She paused, and said, "I'm leaving today."

Severus sighed. "I know. I thought that you would need to go with Potter, Draco and Weasley." Hermione's face tightened at the last name, and he caught it instantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly.

"We broke up," she said with a sigh.

He smiled. "That's wonderful!" he cried, showing raw emotion for the first time.

Hermione nodded, a slight smile touching her face. "Yes…but we had a huge fight during, before, and after it. He called Draco a fag, and he left us. So none of us are friends with him anymore." She felt a great deal of sadness well up inside of her.

Severus touched her face. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said softly. "I know you care about him." She nodded, and he hugged her. She let him for a few moments, and then pulled away, all business.

"Now, I was wondering, would you like to come with us, if Harry gives his permission?" she asked hopefully.

He sighed, and shook his head. "No. I cannot endanger any of you like that."

"What danger?" she asked harshly. "Harry's already in danger as the Boy-Who-Lived, or the 'Chosen One'. Having you along would just make things easier." Severus smiled, but shook his head again.

"I'm sorry, but my place is with the Order of the Phoenix, not with you three." Severus touched her face. "At least not now. But I promise you, if we both survive this war, and the Dark Lord is defeated, I do plan to marry you." Joy lit Hermione's face, and she threw herself into his arms again, for yet another kiss.

* * *

Harry, Draco, and Hermione, met in front of Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had told all of them the location to Hogwarts, so that they could go back, if need be. Professor Flitwick would be meeting them in front of their inn the next day, and then they would all head off to Harry's grandparent's place, now his place. Harry had discovered that all of the ghosts in Hogwarts and Peeves were still in the castle, but were keeping to themselves now. 

They reached the edge of Hogwarts, and Harry gave the castle one last, long look. It might be the last time he saw the castle. For all he knew, he would die before seeing it again. He sighed, and they all Apparated back to the inn, right in front of their rooms. Ron was waiting for them. He was sitting between the two rooms, a contemplative look on his face. When they arrived, he scrambled to his feet, looking unsure of himself.

"Er—hi," he said nervously. Draco and Hermione both had stony looks on their faces, but Harry looked rather hopeful.

"I…um, I met Agatha," he stammered. "And she helped me see that I was being an idiot." He looked to Draco. "I'm sorry for calling you a fag," he said sincerely. "It was rude, and you didn't deserve to be called it. I was just angry because you spoke a truth I didn't want to hear." Draco inclined his head ever-so-slightly, but it was enough to let Ron know that he was going to let him off for that.

"As for what I said to you and Hermione," Ron began, looking at Harry and Hermione, "I'm sorry I lost my temper. As for what I said, though, I'm not sorry, because sometimes I do think that you two think of me in that way." Harry began to protest, but Hermione held up a hand to stop him. She had been observing Ron with faint interest, as if he were a mildly amusing clown. Now her face had hardened again.

"You're right, Ron," she said flatly. "We do think of you as a bumbling fool. Because you've never given us any reason to think otherwise. You have _not_ yet proved yourself worthwhile, and until you do, there is no reason for us to think of you in any other way. If you want our respect, or at least mine, _earn it_."

Ron fell quiet. Harry worried for a moment that he might explode, but instead, he seemed to take her words to heart. "You're right," he said. "I _do_ need to earn your respect. And I will."

Hermione smiled. "That's all I ask." She embraced him, and he hugged back.

Ron turned to Harry, who quickly caught him in a hug. Ron whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, mate. I'll never abandon you again." Harry felt a smile curve his lips, and he nodded.

They then went into their separate rooms, to pack and prepare for the journey the next day. It was time to move on. After all, their lives _did_ consist of more than just soap operas.

**A/N:** I'm just pumping these chapters out like Mrs. Weasley pumps out babies, aren't I? Lol. Well, review, of course, and give me input on who Ron's true love should be. I have an idea, and some of you might have gotten the hint from the ring, but I need your ideas too! Lol. Ten reviews gets a new chapter! And trust me, without those ten reviews, there will be NO NEW CHAPTER. Got it? Okay! The only reason I updated so soon now was because I looked back and saw that I hadn't demanded ten reviews last time. So cough up! I know how many of you recieve author alerts, and it's a lot more than ten! So review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	13. Espíritu and Fidelis Cognatio

**A/N:** Gee, will the chapters ever end? Dunno. It's longer than any of my others. Maybe it'll go on and on and on and on and….Well, you get the idea. Lol. Thirteenth chapter! First one to read and review it will die in seven days:-P. Just kidding. I think. Lol. Hope y'all enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"_Hermione

_"I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow," Harry muttered. He had had the idea in his head ever since the night of Dumbledore's death. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, pages 650 & 651, paragraphs 13 & 14.

**Chapter 13**

**Espíritu and Fidelis Cognatio**

**Normal POV**

Harry awoke the next morning much earlier than any of his companions. He sat up and saw that it was still dark out. Biting back a groan, he glanced at the clock on their wall. Five-thirty. He sighed, knowing that there was no way he could get back to sleep now. Harry decided that he might as well pay another visit to Agatha, telling her goodbye. He wrote a quick note to Draco (he had learned the consequences of taking off without warning), got dressed, and slipped out the door.

He had only gone a few steps when his door opened, and he saw Draco glaring at him sleepily. His normally sleek blond hair was tangled and messy, his eyes were filled with sleep, and his arms were crossed. He looked for all the world like a petulant little boy who'd had his favorite toy taken away from him. Harry grinned. On Draco, this looked absolutely adorable.

He walked over to Draco and said, "I'm going to see Agatha. You want to come?"

Draco nodded, not saying anything. He looked like his mouth was still glued shut from sleep. "Okay then, well, hurry up!" Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry and slowly turned around and walked back into their room, as if to say 'You don't tell me what to do.'

A fond smile crossed Harry's face. He had long ago learned that Draco was to be avoided for the first thirty minutes after he woke up. Harry wasn't quite sure why, but that seemed to be the exact amount of time Draco needed to pull himself together.

Harry was forced to wait that thirty minutes and then some for Draco to finally emerged, with wet hair and brushed teeth, his robes finally pressed. "I swear, Malfoy, you act like a bloody girl sometimes," Harry muttered. They often slipped back into using last names when they were irritated with each other.

Draco yawned, and said, "Don't make me hex you this early in the morning, Potter. I might end up inventing an entirely new spell, and then where would we be? You'd have to wait for Granger to wrestle out of me what curse I used, so she could invent a countercurse, and there's no _telling_ how long that would take." Harry wisely kept his mouth shut the rest of the journey, and let Draco stop and get a cup of tea on the way to the shop. After his tea Draco was a bit more awake and cheerful. He was teasing Harry about the state of his hair, and how if he would _just_ let Draco put mousse in it, he could make it look _so_ much better when they came upon Agatha's jewelry shop.

"Oh look, we're here," Harry said, relieved that he could escape Draco's picking at his hair. "Let's go in."

Looking slightly annoyed, Draco followed him into the shop. A bell that hadn't been there before tinkled as they went in.

"Can I help you?" A pretty young woman came out of the confines of the shop.

"Yes," Harry said, absently brushing Draco's hand away from his hair. The woman smiled knowingly.

"You know, there's been a lot of talk lately of making gay marriage legal in England," she said delicately. "In America, I know at least one of the fifty states made it legal. I just want you to know, I'm rooting for you."

"Oh," Harry said, mortified. "We—we aren't getting married."

"Yet," said Draco smugly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yet," he muttered. "Draco, shut up."

Draco smirked but did as requested. "Actually, we're looking for Agatha."

"Yes," Draco said, grinning. "We already have wedding rings."

Harry sighed. There would be no talking to him today. The woman looked back and forth between the two of them confusedly. "Um…well, if you're talking about my grandmother Agatha, she's been dead for ten years."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. "We just saw her a few—" But Harry was cut off as Draco grabbed his hand and yanked him back.

"Yes, well, thank you," he said quickly, and dragged a protesting Harry out of the shop.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed.

"What are _you_ doing?" Draco snapped. "Agatha was obviously an espíritu."

"A what?" Harry asked.

"Didn't you listen to Binns at all?" Draco said, annoyed.

"I usually slept in that class," Harry said grumpily. "I thought you did too."

Draco sighed. "Of course not. My friends and I worked out a schedule so that only one of us would have to pay attention a week and take notes for the others. Anyway, one week when I was taking notes, Professor Binns mentioned something about espíritu."

"Which is?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated.

"An espíritu," Draco began, sounding like Hermione when she couldn't believe Harry didn't know something, "Is a Muggle who was a prophet. Mostly prophets, or Seers, are witches and wizards, but occasionally a Muggle will be granted the gift. When they die, most of them choose to pass on to the next world. However, sometimes, they choose to remain behind, and do a service for others. Sometimes it will be saving people who are certain to die, or granting a worthy person a wish. Clearly, Agatha chose to stay behind and show people who their true loves are."

"And how does she do this without her relative noticing?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Well, an espíritu can place themselves and anyone they choose to take with them in another dimension, for privacy. When you went into the shop, you were probably taken into her shop in a different dimension."

"Oh, that makes sense," Harry scoffed.

"Hey, I didn't say I fully understood it. She probably scans the souls of those who pass her shop and determine if they're worthy and ready to know who their true loves are," Draco explained.

"Wonderful," Harry snapped. "So how do we contact her?"

"I don't think we're supposed to," Draco said with a soft smile. "I think that since we both know who our true love is, there's no reason for her to see us again."

Harry glanced back at Draco, and knew that what he said made sense. "It's just…." Harry said. "I wanted to see her again."

"So did I," Draco said. "I guess…we just aren't supposed to. Come on, Harry. Let's go back to the inn and pack up our belongings." Harry nodded, and Draco turned to go.

"Hey, wait," Harry said, grabbing his hand and pulling Draco back into his embrace. He leaned forward and kissed Draco's lips, slightly open in surprise. Draco kissed back fiercely, and tangled his hands in Harry's hair, deciding that he'd changed his mind about Harry's hair. He liked it just the way it was. Harry pulled away, leaving Draco slightly flushed. He smiled.

"I'm glad I know who my true love is," he said. Draco smiled, and Harry's world felt like it was lighting up.

"Me too," Draco said. "Let's go."

They walked away, hands linked. Unbeknownst to them, Agatha watched from the window of her shop, a smile curving her aged features as she watched them walk away.

When the two boys arrived back at the inn, Ron and Hermione were rushing about, frantic. Harry and Draco stared at this display for a few moments, when the two stopped, and glared at them.

"What do you think you're doing!" Hermione exclaimed. "Professor Flitwick is going to be here in fifteen minutes!"

"What?" Harry said, aghast.

"Yes, so get ready!"

"When did we decide he was going to be here at seven in the morning?" Harry asked, nettled.

"Yesterday, when we were talking to him—honestly, Harry, don't you ever listen?" Hermione cried. Harry stared at her for a few moments, dumbfounded.

"We did?" he asked blankly. She rolled her eyes at him and shooed him and Draco into their room. "PACK!" she shouted, and slammed the door behind them.

Draco rushed into the room and began using a lot of packing spells Harry didn't know, and when Harry just stared at him, confused, Draco sighed and told him that his house-elves had taught him those spells for when he was at Hogwarts and without an elf to pack for him. Not bothering to waste time teaching Harry the spells, he just assigned him the task of gathering all their notes together while he packed their scattered clothes.

"We should have done this last night," Harry grumbled. "But no, Mr. I-can't-go-ten-minutes-without-washing-my-hair insisted we should wait until morning, when we had more _time_."

Draco simply rolled his eyes and continued to pack. Ten frenzied minutes later, they were almost finished packing. Harry was tracking down the rest of their notes and Draco was looking for stray socks. Satisfied that everything was packed, Draco instantly began stressing over Harry's bedraggled appearance.

"_Why_ didn't you take a shower this morning, Harry?" Draco complained, looking him up and down. "I swear, when we were back at Hogwarts you didn't look so bad."

"When we were back at _Hogwarts_ I think you were too busy trying to hex me and smuggle Death Eaters into the school to notice how I looked!" Harry snapped.

Draco froze. Harry paused, realizing what he'd said. There were a few awkward moments of silence. Then—

"Sorry," Harry said in a low voice.

"It's okay," Draco said, his voice dignified. "I _was_ doing that. There's no reason to hide it."

Harry sighed. "But you're not like that anymore. It would be like—" Harry stopped.

"It would be like what?" Draco pressed gently.

"It would be like reminding me of all the stupid things I've done over the years, when I've already moved past them," Harry sighed. "And you've more than paid for your crimes, as they were. I mean, you were only doing them because you were being threatened by Voldemort."

Draco hesitated and then said, "I suppose I could agree with you. It might be easier. But to say that I didn't want to at first would be a lie. I relished the thought of being the Dark Lord's right hand man and fighting at his side. But then—it just became harder, and I couldn't really see the point. Then he started to threaten me, and I, well, I became resentful. I would still do it, but it was no longer because I truly wanted to. About halfway through, I wanted out. He even—"

Draco was cut off by the sound of knocking at the door, and then a squeaky little voice said, "Come on out boys! This isn't the only thing I have to do today, you know!"

Draco leapt up to open the door for Professor Flitwick, not looking at Harry. His pale eyes were downcast, and his face was dark. Harry knew he was remembering that night on the Tower, when he had almost been saved by Voldemort. And his eyes were dark as he looked away.

Draco swallowed. He had almost told Harry of the Dark Lord's offer. Though he was no longer a Death Eater, it was hard to think of Voldemort with any other name besides 'the Dark Lord.' But Draco could not tell Harry of Voldemort's offer. If he did, Harry would never trust him again. He would always be looking over his shoulder, wondering if he could truly trust Draco.

But then…if Draco didn't tell Harry the truth, he wouldn't be being completely honest with Harry. Though Draco would never betray Harry, and would rather duel Voldemort than hurt Harry, he knew that Harry's trust in him was limited. And to be quite honest, Draco's trust in Harry was also limited. Though Draco knew with his heart that Harry would never harm him, it took a lot to convince his head and the instincts that he'd developed over the years against Harry of it. Every time Harry took out his wand, Draco's hand gave an involuntary twitch, as it automatically tried to reach for his own wand. Every time Harry did something silly, Draco had to bite back a scathing remark. Whenever they were around Hermione, Draco had to resist calling her a Mudblood. And he felt almost certain that it wasn't nearly so difficult for Harry. Harry wasn't the one who'd had to rearrange his entire belief system. Harry hadn't had his parents, who he'd grown to know and love, just die.

Unfortunately, Draco knew that these feelings were horrible, and he felt awful every time one crossed his mind. Harry had believed in him, had stood up for him, and had probably saved his life. For Draco was fairly certain that if Harry hadn't come along and brought him back to the inn, Draco would have starved to death, or his cut would have been infected and he would have died from that. But he only wished that his feelings weren't so complicated.

_What I need_, he reflected wryly, _is a good shrink_.

Draco knew he would have to discuss all of this with Harry eventually. Their relationship was good, but Draco knew that things were also tense. There were things they had never properly discussed, anger that neither of them had gotten out of their system. What they really needed was to have a huge row, and then calm down, and talk to each other about it.

Yes, Draco decided, opening the door for Professor Flitwick, they should do that. Tonight, preferably. Sooner rather than later.

Harry saw Draco's face lighten, and he felt considerably better. However, he felt slightly annoyed when he saw Hermione standing right behind Flitwick, her eyes narrowed in a glare at him. Really, they'd packed all their things, hadn't they? So what was with the death glare?

As Ron dragged all of his and Hermione's things into Harry and Draco's room, and Draco ran downstairs to check them out of the inn and pay their bill, Hermione stalked over to Harry and hissed at him about how he should have at least washed his hair. Harry sighed. Between Hermione and Draco it was a wonder he ever went a day unwashed.

Once they were all back in the room, Flitwick looked up at Harry cheerfully. "I knew your grandparents, did you know?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Yes, lovely chaps they were. Invited me over for tea a few times. We went to school together. Anyway, I know what their place looks like, so I can Apparate you all and your belongings. Here." Professor Flitwick waved his wand and their trunks disappeared. "Now, if you'll all link arms, I can Apparate us all out of here!"

Harry linked arms with Draco and Ron, and Draco linked arms with Hermione. Harry gave one last long look around his room. It had been the place he had taken Draco for the first time, and the place he and Draco had studied together, and truly been together, without hating each other. He was going to miss it. He turned and faced forward while Professor Flitwick linked arms with Ron.

"Three, two, one," he cried, and then Harry felt that awful sensation of being squeezed through a small rubber tube. Two seconds later, he landed with a thud in a brightly lit hall. Harry opened his eyes, and thought he had stepped into a dream.

"Welcome," Professor Flitwick said, "To Fidelis Cognatio."

They were in an enormous entrance hallway. The floor was tiled with beautiful white marble, and there were statues and paintings lining the gold-colored wall. Right behind them was a magnificent mahogany door, and Harry could see out of the window, through the white lace curtain, pillars lining the front of the house, leading to a magnificent courtyard. Beyond the entrance hallway Harry could see a beautiful round room, with a staircase and many different doorways. At once Harry could tell why his father had been such an arrogant prick at school. Had he grown up in a house like this, he probably would have been arrogant too. Draco looked less impressed, and Harry realized that it was probably because he _had_ grown up in a house like this. With a slight smile, Harry realized that Draco was probably the Slytherin version of James.

The house looked very well taken care of, which Harry didn't understand until two small forms came scuttling up to him. It was two house-elves Harry didn't recognize. They both seemed to be female, and were wearing little red dresses.

"Hello, Master Harry sir," they both said, bowing deeply.

"Er—hi," Harry said uncertainly. It had just occurred to him that he owned this magnificent house. All of it. Including its house elves. He carefully avoided Hermione's reproachful gaze. "What are your names?"

"I am Dimply," said a house-elf with large blue eyes, smiling up at him.

"And I am Leally!" said the other, who had pink—_pink_ eyes.

"Hi," Harry said again, a bit more confident. "This is Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Professor Filius Flitwick," he said, pointing at each of them in turn. Dimply and Leally bowed to each of them. When they got to Draco, they hesitated slightly, looking uneasy, but bowed nonetheless. "Erm—how many are there of you?"

"Twenty-three," Dimply said cheerfully. "We were assigned the task of welcoming you here, and showing you to your rooms."

"Great," Draco said. "Have you already taken our things up to our rooms?"

"We took them upstairs to where the bedrooms are, but we thought you might like to choose your own rooms," Leally told him.

"You sound educated," Hermione commented.

"Yes," Dimply said. "The Potters have always insisted that we be educated, paid, and free to come and go."

"How were you paid all this time?" Harry asked.

"There was a fund set aside for us all. We were told you would pay us when you came," Dimply said.

"Oh," Harry said, rather taken aback. "Well, sure. How do I get to it? Is it in Gringotts?"

"No, no," Leally said. "Mr. Potter chose to keep it here. I will show it to you later, if you like."

"Okay," Harry agreed. "Have any of you left that I should know about, who I need to contact and pay?"

"No," Dimply said. Her voice was grave. "This is by far one of the best places for a house-elf to work. Here we are treated kindly. Will you be making any changes to our treatment?"

"No, no," Harry said quickly. "How much were my grandparents paying you all?"

"One galleon a month," Leally said.

Harry frowned. "That isn't very much."

"It is when we are receiving plenty of room, and lots of food," Dimply told him.

"Speaking of which, how _do_ you get food?" Harry asked.

"There is a large orchard, and vegetable garden on the grounds," Leally said cheerfully.

Harry paused. "Wait… just how large is this place?"

"233 acres," Dimply said happily. "There are little houses built all around the

grounds for the house-elves."

"Wow," Harry said, dumbfounded. "That's really big."

"Yes," Leally said, with a small smile. "It is. There is a large, magical gate around

the property, and Muggle-Repelling charms are everywhere."

Harry nodded. "Well, you've done a great job of keeping the place up," he said. "Thanks. I'll get you your pay as soon as I've settled into my room." The house-elves nodded, and fell silent.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick said. "I need to go and cast the charm. Ms. Granger, as the Secret-Keeper, will need to come with me."

"Okay," Harry said, looking at him. "Thanks again for doing this."

"Of course," he said, and he and Hermione left through the front doors.

Harry, Ron, and Draco walked the length of the hallway while Dimply described the property.

"There are twenty-three bedrooms, three game rooms, four sitting rooms, six libraries—"

"Wait," Harry said, stopping dead. "_Six_?"

"Yes," Dimply said easily. "Right before they died the Potters added another one. Anyway, there are thirty bathrooms, three of them are very magnificent, several secret corridors, speaking of which, there is a map." Dimply dug in her dress and pulled out an old piece of parchment and handed it to Harry, who unfolded it. "Just tap it with your wand, and say, 'I solemnly swear I am of Potter blood, by birth or marriage', or 'I solemnly swear I am a Potter ally.' The map will judge your intentions, determine that you are of Potter blood by birth or marriage, or a Potter ally, and open for you."

"What if you aren't?" Harry asked nervously. Dimply smiled grimly.

"Let's just say you don't want to find out," she said. Harry nodded. Now he knew where his father had gotten the idea for the Marauder's Map from. He tucked the parchment into his robes and walked on. Leally picked up where Dimply had left off.

"There are thirteen orchards in all," she said. "A peach, orange, apple, cherry, plum, nut, pomegranate, papaya, coconut—tangerine, tangelo, mango, lemon and lime are all in the same orchard, guava, banana, and date orchards. There are also ten acres of several different types of vegetable, and five acres of cotton. There are twenty acres devoted to farm animal, such as cows, chickens, horses, pigs, sheep, goats, and the rest of the land is available to ride around on horses and unicorns. Many magical creatures live on this land too. The Potters offered it as a Sanctuary from the Ministry. There are about a hundred acres of wood available for them. There are also streams, and rivers, and a large lake. It is truly a wondrous place to live."

Harry was stunned into silence. "Okay, I'm no farmer, but I do know that a lot of what you said is grown, like cotton, destroys the earth, and a lot of the fruit trees, I mean, a lot of those fruits need a warmer climate than England. And besides that, how do you keep all of this running, with only twenty-three house-elves!" His thoughts hadn't exactly been completely coherent, but he got his point across. Leally smiled.

"Ah, but that's the interesting part," she said. "Many years ago, Mr. Potter saved the life of a very powerful warlock from rampaging manticores. As a thank-you, the warlock blessed this land eternally. It is now self-sufficient. It can take care of itself and replenish the nutrients in the ground magically. All we have to do is periodically turn on the sprinklers."

Harry nodded. That made sense, but it felt a little too convenient. "How did my grandparents get so much money, and land?" he asked.

"The Potters have slowly collected it, over the generations. Saving little bits of money, here and there," Dimply told him. "Sometimes marriages have brought in money. It has all been very wonderful. An added bonus of the warlock's blessing is that any land added is also blessed."

Harry felt floored. "And how did I not know of this for so long?" he demanded.

Dimply shrugged. "We were not told to tell you, and we thought someone else might. Perhaps those in charge of it wished to keep it from you, in the hopes that they might steal it."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he sighed. Whatever. He had it now, and he would keep it in the family forever. "Why didn't my parents live here?" he asked.

"Well, they lived near here," Leally said. "They lived in Godric's Hollow, which is where this is, but they wanted their own place for the time being. However, their house was destroyed when the Evil One came and killed them. The land is still yours, but I would recommend you sell it. It is a cursed place."

Harry nodded, taking her advice, and they were led up the stairs to the bedrooms.

The next hour was spent traipsing in and out of the many magnificent rooms. Harry was starting to feel a bit intimidated. The thought that all of this was his sent his head reeling. There were many different rooms. One had a water theme, another a fire theme, an earth theme, ect. Many of the rooms seemed to have different themes. They were all enormous, and beautiful. Yet…for all their splendor, they seemed almost…homey. At first Harry had indeed felt unsettled, but as he went in and out of the rooms, and grew accustomed to the place, he began to feel more and more at home. He asked Dimply why this was.

"Tis part of the house's enchantment, sir," Dimply told him, her wide blue eyes looking up at him in amazement, as if she couldn't believe he didn't know this. "It was made beautiful and spectacular by the first Potters who built this, over three hundred years ago, but they realized that it wasn't a very nice place to live, as it was so large, and cold. So they placed an enchantment on the place to make it seem homey and warm."

Harry nodded distantly and continued to walk, letting his mind blank out as he just drank in the beauty of his grandpar—no, _his_—place.

Ron selected a large, beautiful room dedicated to a Quidditch team. Apparently one of Harry's ancestors had been fond of the Chudley Cannons. Ron practically fainted when he saw that room. Leaving him to explore his room and unpack, Harry, Draco, Dimply, and Leally continued along their path. Dimply and Leally were talking quietly behind them, and Harry was trailing slightly ahead of Draco, their hands casually linked. Dimply spoke up.

"Sirs," she said nervously.

Harry and Draco focused on her, Harry's eyes slightly misted over because Draco had been rubbing little circles on his wrist in a tantalizing way. "What?" Harry asked and then winced, realizing how rude it sounded. "Er—I mean, yes?"

"Would you two like to share a room together?" she asked boldly. Leally was shaking her head in embarrassment at her companion.

"Why, er, yes, we would," Harry replied, slightly flustered. He hadn't realized how obvious it was that he and Draco were in a relationship—but then again, he thought, looking down at their connected hands, perhaps it was.

"Then you will probably want the master bedroom," Dimply noted.

"Oh," Harry said, startled, glancing at Draco. "There's a master bedroom?"

"Certainly," Leally said, glaring at Dimply. "I apologize for her nosiness."

Draco laughed. "It's no problem," he said, with that smirk on his face Harry had come to enjoy. Not a cruel smirk, but an amused, slightly superior smirk that actually looked rather adorable on Draco. "Lead the way to the bedroom."

Leally nodded, sent one last aggravated look at Dimply, and marched off, ears perked up, rather like a cat would send up its tail in a look of superiority. Dimply simply looked amused, and as Draco walked ahead of them, motioned for Harry to lean down, which he did.

"She's my elder sister," Dimply confided, "And was always convinced that my big mouth was going to get me in trouble one day. She loves to boss me around."

Harry laughed, and they hurried to catch up with Leally and Draco. She stopped at a large wooden door at the center of the hallway and pushed it open. Harry looked inside, and saw….

Nothing. The room was tiny, and absolutely bare. "Um…." Harry said awkwardly. "There's nothing in here."

"Ah, but that is why it is the master bedroom," Dimply said mischievously. "It has several enchantments placed on it. It was one of the first rooms of the house to be built. It is decorated however you wish, can be as large as you like, will supply whatever you need or want, even if," she added, waggling her eyebrows, "it is for a rather lascivious reason."

Harry stared at her blankly while Draco started sniggering. "What does she mean?" he muttered to Draco. Draco looked at him in some surprise, rolled his eyes, and told him he'd tell him later.

Harry looked back at Dimply. "So…" he began, "It's sort of like the Room of Requirement, is it?"

She frowned for a moment, and said, "The one in Hogwarts School?" Harry nodded. "Well," she said. "Yes and no. The master bedroom can only be accessed by those of Potter name by birth or marriage, or an ally of a Potter, and only by a person who means no harm to the owner or his allies. The bedroom has very powerful protection spells on it. Also, the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts is much more difficult to use. In this room, you just have to concentrate on what you want for approximately three seconds, and it will come. That way, you won't end up with things you just are idly thinking about wanting. The room supplies nearly everything you could ask for."

"_Nearly_ everything?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes," Dimply said with a slight smile. "For example, the room is unable to provide the Atlantic Ocean, no matter how much you may wish for it."

Harry snorted, and Draco scowled. The two house-elves left, saying that lunch was at noon in the dining hall. Harry told them he'd be down soon enough to pay them. They left looking reasonably happy.

Harry looked around the room, feeling rather at a loss. At the moment, it was a simple, small, square room with a slanted ceiling. Harry glanced at Draco, in slight question. Draco shrugged and waved his hands, as if to say 'go ahead'. Harry grinned and concentrated. The room's ceiling was no longer slanted, and the room enlarged to about thirty by thirty feet. Harry smiled.

Several thoughts later the room had a large, cushy, four-poster bed, with velvet red hangings and a gold bedspread. The floor was fluffy white carpet. There were several large windows with a white lace curtain over them, and large red curtains pushed aside. They gave off a lovely view of the orchards. Harry had also put in a beautiful bathroom, and, in a moment of inspiration, made it resemble the prefect's bathroom in Hogwarts, except a tad more fancy. Harry had also included two gorgeous mahogany wardrobes, one for both he and Draco. They both had beside tables and lamps. He gave another thought, hoping that the room would also do this, and looked in his wardrobe. Yes, there were his clothes, organized by color and size. Grinning, he checked Draco's wardrobe. Same thing. Harry had avoided their other belongings, deciding that they could unpack those themselves. Harry looked around with a small smile, and knew that this was now home.

Draco had been watching this display with a slightly patronizing smile, the smile a father might use on Christmas day as he watched his child play with their new toys. He had simply thought a comfortable green and silver armchair into existence and sat down, chin resting on his hand, an affectionate smile touching his pale features.

When Harry was done, he flopped down on the soft carpet and rubbed his face up against it. Draco laughed. "Like carpets, do you?"

"Well, where I grew up, my aunt _hated_ carpet, because it was so hard to clean," Harry explained. "The few times I would visit others' houses and see carpet I absolutely loved it. So yes, I like carpets. "

Draco smiled and stretched out next to him. "I like carpets too," he whispered. Harry smiled lazily and pulled Draco towards him. They kissed, slowly and affectionately. To do anything else would have meant getting up, and the both of them were feeling rather lazy at the moment. They lay there for a while, hands entwined, gazing into each other's eyes. Harry pulled Draco closer and rested his forehead against Draco's, relaxing completely. They would have fallen asleep there if a certain redhead hadn't come busting in.

"Hey, Harry—oh," Ron stopped, looking startled. "Sorry." Draco groaned and buried his face in the white carpet. Harry sighed.

"What is it, Ron?" he asked.

"Well, Hermione sent me up to get you two. Professor Flitwick's done with the Fidelius charm, and she thought you two should come say goodbye," Ron said, looking rather nervous. "Er…I like your room, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, beginning to get up.

"I can't say much for the color scheme, but it's nice," Ron said.

Harry paused, frowning. "What do you mea—" he stopped as he caught a good look at the room. The bed hangings were now a deep green, and the comforter was green mixed with silver. The larger curtains were also now dark green. He glanced at Draco, who was grinning up at him.

"Do you like it?" he asked innocently. "Much better than red, don't you think?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Here, I've got a better idea," he said, and concentrated. Instantly the room was split in two. The bed hangings were half green, half red, the comforter was half silver and green, half gold. On the windows, one curtain was red, and the other green. Satisfied, Harry looked back at Draco, who was starting to grin.

"You know, Potter," he said, getting up and kissing him briefly. "There might be hope for you yet."

Ron rolled his eyes at the ridiculous grin on Harry's face, and he left after Draco. Harry followed him downstairs where they bid goodbye to Professor Flitwick. Hermione gave him a slip of paper with their address on it, Number 23 Magia Lane, to give to Snape and Professor McGonagall, and he Apparated out, with instructions to set up Anti-Apparition wards.

The rest of the day passed in relative peace. Harry went to the Potter house-elf vault, which, oddly, did not contain gold, but just a key with a name on each. When Harry asked what they were, Dimply answered.

"These are the keys to our vaults at Gringotts," Dimply told him. "Enchantments were placed on our vaults to feed money into each vault from the main house elf vault. If at any point we stopped serving the Potters the flow of money would cease."

Harry nodded, for this made sense, and passed out the rest of the keys.

When lunchtime came around, the house-elves served spaghetti and meat sauce, with garlic bread. It was all splendidly cooked, and Harry enjoyed every last bite of it.

In the afternoon, Dimply and her wife, Arilial, who was just as nice, if not a bit fiercer than Dimply herself, led Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco on a walk around the grounds. Harry picked some of the ripe peaches and was astonished at how good it tasted. Indeed, he had never had a peach quite so good. They walked around the streams, and some of the unicorns even ventured up close enough to be fed some of the apples Hermione had collected, and allowed them all to pat their splendid manes. Indeed, it seemed so wonderful and magical to Harry that he wondered how he had ever felt at home at Hogwarts or the Burrow. Those places had been homes to him, but this, this was truly _home_.

At dinner they dined on steaks and mashed potatoes with asparagus. And, yet again, Harry had never tasted anything quite so good. They stayed up late around a roaring fireplace in the sitting room, eating marshmallows and s'mores and debating on what spells Voldemort had likely used to protect his Horcruxes. Hermione bored Harry and Ron with a detailed list of their schedule for the week. Indeed, Draco was the only one who seemed at all interested. It seemed as if both Draco and Hermione were a lot more alike than they were both willing to admit. Of course, this led to Harry teasing Draco about being a little 'housewife', and gossiping with Hermione about the neighbors. But this managed to annoy Hermione as well as Draco, and he was soon being held down by Draco and mercilessly tickled by Hermione. He begged Ron for help, but Ron just grinned and told him that he'd gotten himself into that mess, so he had to get himself out.

After several hours of play fighting and talking, at around eleven Hermione announced that she was ready to go to bed and bid them all good night. Ron and Harry stayed up playing wizard's chess with a crystal set Ron had triumphantly discovered in a drawer in the sitting room. Draco, Harry discovered, should never be in the same room as he when trying to play a game. Draco kept hissing instructions in his ear, so much that after about fifteen minutes Harry just gave up trying to play the game and let Draco play it for him. Draco beat Ron about six moves later. They played several games, but they were about evenly matched in talent as far as that game was concerned. Harry watched sleepily as they abandoned the game for a heated discussion on strategy. It was almost twelve-thirty when they finally decided to go to bed. They trooped, yawning and stretching, up to their rooms. Ron bade them a sleepy goodbye and Harry and Draco entered their own room.

Harry had just started to unbutton his robes when he heard a sharp, clear voice behind him, devoid of sleepiness.

"Potter," Draco said sharply. Harry wheeled around, and found himself faced with a fully awake Draco, glaring at him and pointing his wand at him. Harry's thoughts wheeled into overdrive as he plunged his own hand into his robe pocket, now fully awake. He had been wrong about Draco. Draco was a spy, still working for Voldemort. Draco hadn't changed one bit, and he was still a Death Eater. There never had been a Draco.

Malfoy was back.

**A/N:** What thinkst you? Yeah, yeah, not a word, but whatever. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! It's my longest one yet, I think. Lol. Well, you all know the drill by now. Ten reviewsNew Chapter. Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	14. A Lovely Row

**A/N:** Yeah, eight is enough. And the last review was so cute I couldn't resist updating. YAY! The long-awaited(at least by me) fight chapter! Woo-hoo! Lol. Well, hope y'all enjoy. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"_

_For a split second, they looked in each other's eyes, and then, at exactly the same time, both acted._

_"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled._

_"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.'_—Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, page 298&299, paragraphs 9 10 11, and 1.

_'Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder._

_Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought, _Levicorpus!_ and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another—'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 522, paragraphs 2&3.

**Dedication: **My new beta, Willow, and Kat, and my newest reviewer, Jess&Jenn, because their review made my day.

**Chapter 14**

**A Lovely Row**

**Normal POV**

Draco was shaking mentally as he walked up the stairs with Harry, and watched him bid good night to Weasley, and they walked into their room. He didn't want to have to do this, that was for certain, but if he didn't, there was no way he would ever know…hopefully it wouldn't escalate into a duel. The few memories of times Harry had gotten the better of him in a duel were not pleasant ones. Nonetheless, as Harry turned around and began getting undressed for bed, Draco performed a sleepless charm on himself and turned around, pointing his wand directly at Harry. He was afraid his voice might shake when he spoke, but he needn't have worried; his voice was quite steady.

"Potter," he said harshly. Harry turned around, slight confusion in his eyes. But then he saw the wand pointed at him. Draco watched with increasing despair as Harry quickly came to a conclusion. It took him less than half a second to have _his_ wand out and pointing at Draco. Draco gazed at Harry's betrayed eyes for a few seconds longer before returning his wand to his robes and sinking down into his chair.

"Ah," he said in a heavy voice. "I thought so."

"You thought what?" Harry asked in a mistrustful tone. Draco eyed his wand disdainfully.

"Put that away, you fool," he snapped. "Didn't you listen to Dimply at all? She _told_ us that no one wishing to harm someone of Potter blood or name can enter this room, remember?"

"Oh," Harry said blankly. "Yeah, I guess." But he did not lower his wand. Draco looked away, pained.

"You don't trust me," he said softly, more to himself than to Harry. "You don't trust me at all. For all you knew I was planning on turning your hair pink. You didn't look at the expression on my face. You just heard me say your last name, saw the wand pointing at you and immediately assumed the worst. Why is that, Harry? Have I, in the past five months, given you any reason to not trust me? I saved your life from that painting. I gave you my love. I did all I could to repent from past crimes. McGonagall, who is a brilliant witch, cleared me. And you still don't trust me."

Harry, having realized after the first sentence what a huge mistake he'd made, quickly returned his wand to his robes. "I—er," he stuttered, feeling uncertain.

Draco rose to his feet, his gaze cold. "You think that just because I used to be your enemy, I still am."

"No, I don't!" Harry burst out. "It's just—well, how am I supposed to feel? For a year, you plotted the demise of Professor Dumbledore, and for a year, I was convinced you were a Death Eater, and I spent a year collecting evidence against you! Besides, don't you remember the number of times we've dueled? And you still look the same! You still look like you used to. You even act like you used to!"

"And what, exactly, am I supposed to do about that?" Draco snarled. "Do you expect me to charm my hair a different color, transfigure my face so it looks different to suit _your_ uneasiness? And as for the way I act, I'm still me! This is the way I behaved my entire life! And besides, a person can't just change their life views overnight! I know that what my parents taught me was wrong, but they were _still_ my parents. Every time I look at Granger, or talk with Weasley, I feel like I'm betraying them. What if you had learned that the Dark Lord was right all along? How would you feel?"

"But he isn't," Harry pointed out flatly. "The difference is that you thought killing innocent people was right."

"No, I didn't!" Draco shouted. "I thought killing Mudbloods and blood traitors was right. Also enemies. In my mind, and my parent's, they weren't really people. Same way you and your Order wouldn't hesitate to kill Death Eaters. Both sides think they're right. Same thing with the Muggle Civil War in America."

Harry stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about?" he asked in confusion. "How do you know about that?"

Draco waved a hand impatiently. "I had to go to Muggle school until I went to Hogwarts. My parents wanted me to learn basic skills, like reading and writing. During the summer, I continued to take classes so my education could be rounded. The Dark Lord likes his Death Eaters to be fully prepared for war, and the rebuilding of the government once we took it over. He wanted it to be better than the Ministry currently is," he said bitterly. "But that's not the point. In the American Civil War, it was not uncommon for fathers to fight against sons, brothers against brothers, friends against friends, because both sides were convinced that they were right. After the war was over, and America moved forward, most people became more educated, and learned that having human slaves is wrong. But at the time, the Confederates were absolutely convinced that they were right. Harry, I'm like a Confederate who became educated. It's still difficult to accept that my mentors, people I trusted, were all wrong, but I _know_ that they were. I'm not a Death Eater anymore. If you don't believe me, you can have full access to my memories, but I'm _not._ It'll just take me time to fully understand that I was wrong with my heart, instead of my head. Learned instincts…that I just have trouble getting rid of." Draco sank back down onto his chair, burying his face his hands. He looked up, but not at Harry. He was staring off into space, and his face looked exhausted.

"Can't you ever trust me?" he asked softly.

Harry stared at Draco. He didn't know what to think. He thought he'd trusted Draco, thought he'd known himself that much. But…it had all been a lie he'd told himself. He'd wanted to trust Draco, so he'd convinced himself he did. But, he realized, around Draco he had always been on edge, waiting for him to attack, to reveal that he was really still a Death Eater. And then Harry had thought he had. But it was just a ruse, and Harry…Harry _didn't_ trust Draco. But he could. That much he knew. Harry took a few moments to look inside himself, and realized that he could, indeed, trust Draco.

Harry sank to his knees in front of Draco, and moved his head so that he was looking directly into Draco's sad silver eyes.

"Yes," he said firmly. "I can trust you. One day. But it's going to take me time too. So just…wait. Can you do that?"

Draco swallowed, and nodded slowly. "Yes, I can."

Harry smiled and pulled him up, embracing him. Draco hugged back, his arms going around Harry tightly. Harry leaned back and kissed him with abandon, because now there was nothing holding him back. No fear that Draco would go running back to Voldemort. His fear felt gone. Not all of it, indeed, but enough. Harry leaned his forehead against Draco's, and sighed deeply.

"Are you sure you want to deal with this?" Draco asked softly. "I mean, I'm sure the girl Weasley is still willing to take you back." His voice was teasing, but it had an undercurrent of fear in its tone.

"I would rather," Harry said fiercely, "have a complicated, amazing relationship with you than an easy, boring relationship with her any day."

Draco nodded, and buried his face in Harry's hair, breathing deeply.

The enchanted house watched them carefully. All day, the house had observed them, wondering if they should take the wizard that had the faint scent of Dark magic as another owner, and an ally of the Potter heir, since the house could see how much the Potter heir cared for him. Fidelis Cognatio had felt confused at first as to why a Light wizard would care so much for a wizard who clearly had a Dark back round. But as she watched their row, she realized why, and wrapped her arms around the once Dark wizard, cleansing him of Dark magic. She focused on the Dark Mark and practically vomited, it was so consumed by Dark magic. But she concentrated and leaned in, drowning it with Light magic. It fought fiercely, and flickered, and then vanished. Draco screamed and fell to his knees, breathing harshly, and clutching his left forearm.

"Draco!" Harry shouted, falling beside him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Draco gasped, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. Due to his Dark Mark, he almost always wore long sleeves. His Dark Mark was gone.

"What?" he whispered in awe.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry breathed. "How—do you think Voldemort took it away, or something?"

"I don't know," Draco muttered.

Their door burst open and Hermione, dressed in a blue nightgown, rushed in, followed by Ron in orange pajamas, and Dimply and her wife, Arilial, came in. Dimply had an earnest look on her face, and Arilial looked somewhat unsettled. They were both fully dressed, and looked as if they expected this. Dimply strode over to Draco and harshly grasped his left arm and examined it. After a few minutes of thorough examination, she released it, looking satisfied.

"Good," she said. "I was hoping Fidelis might do that." When everyone in the room stared at her blankly except for Arilial, she sighed, and said, "This house," she gestured casually around the room, "has a conscious. In the beginning, she was given a conscious only to protect the inhabitants. But as time went on, many different Potters from several generations helped to give her a personality, and educate her. Because of this, she loves and is attached to the Potters, and will protect all of them, no matter what. But she has been taught to repel Dark magic. When you came in, Mr. Malfoy, reeking of Dark magic, she automatically reared up to throw him out of her domain. But then she looked more closely, and saw his strong connection to her current owner, Harry, who is surrounded by Light magic. She also saw that Mr. Malfoy meant and means no harm to Harry, and loves him deeply. She decided to wait and see if he is pure and good after all, despite his Dark back round. And apparently, tonight, she saw enough to satisfy her that Mr. Malfoy is good, if not pure. So she purged him of the Dark magic still lingering within him. Including," she said, her lip curling slightly in disgust, "this defaced, mutilated Dark Mark."

Draco was still gazing at his clean forearm in shock, tracing the skin there. He looked up at Dimply when she was finished. "Why would the house do this?" he asked.

Dimply frowned. "Because she does not wish the future husband of her Potter heir to be tainted with Dark magic. Eventually, if you two have children, she will love you too. But she needs time to look past your Dark deeds. The people you have hurt."

"How does she know about that?" Draco asked sharply.

"Because you are here, and you have performed Dark magic, she has the right and ability to see what Dark magic you have done," Dimply said. Her voice was only slightly cold.

"Oh," Draco said, looking back down at his arm.

"Now I suggest you all get some sleep," Arilial said. She smiled slightly, looking less angry about Draco's past deeds than her partner. "You all have to get up at seven AM if you wish to follow Hermione's schedule." She gently took Dimply's arm and led her out of the room. Ron and Hermione stood there a few moments longer, but Harry motioned for them to go away, and they nodded, leaving.

Harry looked back down at Draco, who, astonishingly enough, had tears in his eyes. Harry hadn't seen him cry since the night Harry had found him, half-starved, both parents dead. Draco looked up around the house, and said, in a choked voice, "Thank you, Fidelis." The walls pulsed slightly with a bright light, then faded back to normal. Harry took Draco's hand and pulled him up.

"Come on," he said, smiling. "Remember what Arilial said. Seven AM."

Draco groaned. The tears were already gone. They got ready for bed and fell asleep in the most comfortable bed either of them had ever slept in. Fidelis watched them, arms wrapped around each other, sleeping deeply, and her happiness glowed in the house around them.

**A/N:** Winces. Yes, I know it's shorter than any of my other chapters. Sorry! But that was such a cute place to end it at. Well, erm, since this is such a short chapter, I promise an extra long chapter next time! Well, hopefully. Lol. At least, next chapter, something exciting will happen. Yes, you guessed it! The next Horcrux! YAY! After that, a Christmas chapter, and, erm, well, I should probably go figure it out. Anyway, ten reviews, next chapter. C'mon, y'all, you must have this figured out by now. Well, cookies to reviewers! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	15. The Locket

**A/N:** I can't believe I'm already at the fifteenth chapter. It seems so long to me! Does it seem long to you? Well, I worked it out, and this story should have approximately 22-23 chapters, including the Epilogue. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

_'…Also a heavy locket that none of them could open...'_—Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, page 116, paragraph 8.

_'Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled out the fragment of parchment, opened it, and read by the light of the many wands that had now been lit behind him:_

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this_

_but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret._

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B'_

—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 609, paragraphs 5&6.

**Chapter 15**

**The Locket**

**Normal POV**

Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione had only been at Fidelis Cognatio for a few weeks when Hermione had a breakthrough. Harry and Ron were busy studying Horcrux protection spells and Draco was reading up on becoming an Animagus, something he confided in Harry that he had been hard at work at for the past two years, and was close to completing. Hermione was rereading the note that had been hidden inside the false Horcrux for the millionth time, and poring over old books, when she let out a triumphant shriek.

Harry, Ron, and Draco looked up. Draco looked vaguely annoyed, Ron looked slightly scared, but Harry leapt to his feet and strode over to her. "What is it?" he asked urgently.

"I've figured it out!" she cried. "How could I have missed it? It was so obvious, especially after what you told me about seeing the locket in Grimmauld Place…." she trailed off, obviously still savoring the realization. She looked up at Harry, her face shining. "Harry, RAB is Regulus Black!"

"What?" Harry breathed. "Sirius's brother? But he was a Death Eater!"

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed. "And only Death Eaters call Voldemort the Dark Lord! Also, remember what Sirius said about Regulus? How he tried to back out of being a Death Eater and was killed? Regulus must have destroyed the Horcrux and Voldemort found out about it! I bet he was furious…."

Harry was running her explanation frantically through his head. It would be so nice to believe that Sirius's brother was good after all, but some things didn't make sense.

"_Why_ would Regulus betray Voldemort?" Harry asked. "I mean, he was a Death Eater, after all…."

Hermione frowned. "That's one part I don't understand," she said. "But there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"You're right," Harry said, taking her hand and pulling her up. "Let's go."

"Now?" she asked, startled.

"Why not?" Harry asked with a shrug. She bit her lip, and nodded.

"You're right. We should go."

Ron had been watching this conversation with a fair amount of fascination, but also slight confusion. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Grimmauld Place, Weasley," Draco said in a bored voice. "That's where Harry saw the locket that he thinks might have been Slytherin's locket, and that's also where Regulus Black lived." He closed his book and got up, stretching. Harry was reminded vividly of a giant cat, and had to resist the temptation to run his hands up Draco's chest. He shook his head quickly. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things. Draco smiled at him lazily, as if he knew what Harry had just been thinking. Draco walked over and kissed Harry idly, wrapping an arm around Harry's midriff. Harry kissed him back, feeling startled, but pleased. Draco pulled away and hugged Harry. He cast a grin at Hermione that Harry couldn't see, and Harry sent an apologetic look at Ron that Draco couldn't see. Hermione had politely looked away, and Ron had narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Lately, Draco had taken to kissing Harry whenever he felt like it, unfortunately usually in the presence of Harry's friends, resulting in Ron's disgust and embarrassment, and Hermione's amusement.

Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione all gathered up their wands and trooped over to the fireplace. Harry went first. Dipping his hand into the jar of Floo-Powder, Harry threw a pinch into the fireplace. Instantly, a green fire rose up, and Harry shouted, "Grimmauld Place!" He stepped into the fireplace, and was whirled off to his other house. He emerged from the fireplace, coughing and grumbling. Draco emerged soon after, fussing about the state of his robes, and cleaned them with a swish of his wand. Harry glanced at him and grinned. Apparently, this was not reassuring, for Draco gave his own wand a little flick and cleaned Harry for him. Harry laughed at Draco's silliness, and Draco scowled. Ron and Hermione came a few minutes later.

Harry glanced around the room. They had come out in the kitchen. Harry's heart clenched slightly as he saw the chair Sirius had been sitting in little over two years ago. He looked away.

"Come on," he said softly. They moved into the hallway. The house had a distinct deserted feeling. Harry frowned, and they heard a voice at the top of the stairs.

"Hermione! Draco!" Snape was sweeping down the stairs towards them, a not-unfriendly look on his face. He merely looked slightly confused. "What are you all doing here?"

Harry glanced at his group members, but all were looking at him expectantly. With a slight sigh, he explained the situation. When Snape heard about the locket, his breath caught.

"I know what locket you're talking about," he said. He swept into the dining room and opened a desk drawer. Inside lay a tarnished version of the silver locket Harry had seen in Hokey's memory. Snape reached to take it.

"Don't touch it!" Harry cried. "It could have curses on it." Snape glanced at him with a slight smile and picked it up.

"Don't worry, Potter," he said, placing it in Harry's hand. "It's quite harmless."

Harry stared blankly down at the heavy locket in his hand. "Then…it was never a Horcrux?" he asked in confusion.

"Oh, it was a Horcrux," Snape said. He sighed. "I suppose it is time for my confession. Sit down," he said, gesturing at the couch and chairs. Harry and Draco sat down in one of the couches together. One of Harry's hands was still holding the Horcrux. The other was tightly clutching Draco's hand. Snape sat down in a chair he had conjured, and Hermione sat down beside him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry looked away from this strange sight and studied the locket. Indeed, there didn't seem to be anything odd about the Horcrux at all. Snape began to speak. Harry looked up.

"Before I turned spy for Dumbledore, Regulus Black, a close…friend of mine, discovered the truth about the Dark Lord's Horcruxes. I discovered that he had been researching about them for a long time. As it turns out, the only reason Regulus joined the Death Eaters was to protect his older brother, who he loved immensely."

"But—" Harry protested, his mind running over what Sirius had told him. "Sirius said his brother was an idiot! That he believed what his parents said."

"Yes, I know," Snape said, a slightly sour look on his face. "Regulus told me that that was what Black thought. However, I was the only person who ever knew that Regulus was truly innocent. He listened to his brother when Black came back from Hogwarts, head filled with Gryffindor, Light beliefs. Black never thought the Regulus took any of it in, but he remembered and believed all of it. He was sorted into Slytherin because he, like me, had the cunning and brilliance to fool the Dark Lord. After Regulus destroyed the Horcruxes, he planned on revealing himself for what he was to his brother, who he had always wanted to be proud of him." Snape sighed heavily. "As it was, he only managed to destroy one of them, before the Dark Lord figured out that he was a traitor. He never discovered what Regulus had done, but, one night, when he wasn't being careful, be let one of his kinder thoughts about the Light Side, and his brother, slip, and…the Dark Lord tortured and killed him before our eyes, with a warning about betraying him. It was for Regulus that I finally decided to turn spy for Dumbledore. He had been trying to persuade me to switch sides before that, and for him I did." Snape had a look on his face of old, tired misery. "That's why Dumbledore trusted me so. He saw the pain and grief I felt over Regulus's death, and the hatred I kept towards Voldemort for him."

"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore about the Horcruxes!" Harry cried.

"I did," Snape said, an odd look on his face. "But he didn't believe me. Instead, he chose to focus on other things. I suppose he discarded it. But then, lately, after Riddle's diary was destroyed, he began to question me about the Horcruxes again. He did the rest of the research on his own."

Harry fell silent, staring at Snape. "Why were you friends with him?" he asked quietly.

Snape looked at Harry, a slightly annoyed look on his face. "Because he wasn't like his brother," he said flatly. "And I'm sorry, Harry, but Sirius was an arrogant prat when I first knew him."

Harry nodded, for he could not deny this. And yet, Draco had been too, but he had changed. Harry thought it slightly amusing how he had strongly disliked Draco when they were younger because he was an arrogant prick, but then had fallen in love with him when they were seventeen, much like his parents. Snape was smiling as if he knew what Harry was thinking.

"He didn't stay that way, of course, and neither did your father," Snape said.

Harry grinned. "I should hope not," he said, with a slight laugh.

"All right. Would you all like to stay for lunch?" Snape questioned politely.

"No thanks," Harry, Ron, and Draco chorused. Snape glanced at Hermione, who had a shy smile on her face.

"I'd like to stay for lunch," she said softly. Snape smiled at her warmly. Harry rolled his eyes in slight disgust.

"Okay," Snape said.

"I'll see you guys later, okay?" Hermione said, glancing their way.

"Whatever," Harry said, moving towards the fireplace.

"Sure," Draco said, embracing her quickly.

Ron had a sickened look on his face, but he nodded. "Um, I'm going to go look around Hogwarts," he said.

"Why?" Harry said, frowning.

Ron shrugged. "I just feel like being at Hogwarts," he said. Harry nodded, bade him goodbye, and left through the fireplace with Draco and went back home. His last thought was, _Only two Horcruxes left,_ and there was a giddy feeling in his stomach.

Luna Lovegood wandered through the street of the Muggle town her father was visiting for research on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, which had unusually high reported sightings here. She looked through the windows idly, wondering what she should buy. Her father had given her some money and warned her to watch out for Heliopaths. She agreed to do so, and went wandering among the streets. She was passing by a jewelry shop when a ring in the window caught her eye. It was a platinum cuckoo bird with sapphire eyes. For some strange reason she felt compelled to go in, and hoped it wasn't the Gulping Plimplies getting at her. She should have remembered to bring a Gurdyroot. Oh well.

She entered the shop, and a lovely looking lady came out of the back of the shop, smiling warmly at her. "Hello, Luna dear," she said. "You wanted to see the cuckoo ring?"

She must be an espíritu, Luna realized lightly. She slipped the ring on her finger after the woman gave it to her. "What is your name?" she asked dreamily.

"Agatha, darling."

"Thank you for the ring," Luna said happily, for she knew what espíritus did to be allowed to live. "I'm guessing its counterpart will show me my true love?"

"Yes, that's right," Agatha said, delighted that she needn't explain. "Its counterpart is a golden dog."

"Where do I need to go to meet him?" Luna asked, admiring the ring on her finger.

"Be at Hogwarts at the end of November, and do what you wish on the 30th day. You will find him."

"Thank you, Agatha," Luna said, smiling.

"You are most welcome. Farewell!" Agatha called, as Luna exited.

Luna smiled as she walked down the street to tell her father she needed to go to Hogwarts. She had a date with her true love.

Ron went through the fireplace to Hogwarts, arriving in Professor McGonagall's study.

"Mr. Weasley!" she exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to wander around Hogwarts," Ron said with a shrug. "If that's all right with you?"

"Well, yes, of course," she said, bemused. Ron nodded at her and left out through her office door.

He wandered the corridors aimlessly for almost two hours. He wasn't sure why, but he'd had the strange feeling he needed to be here. He shivered in his sweater. He really should have worn a cloak in the cold castle. After all, it was almost December. He shrugged, and kept walking.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice the odd-looking girl rounding the corner. As a result, he smashed into her.

Ron caught her quickly before she fell, and his jaw dropped when he saw who it was. "_Luna_?" he cried in astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, it's you," Luna said pleasantly. "I thought it might be. Well, I am here because I met a woman named Agatha who gave me this ring," she held up her finger, "and told me if I was in Hogwarts today and did what I wanted I'd meet my true love."

Ron stared at her for a few moments, shocked, and then he groaned. "Of _course_ it had to be you!" He sighed, and looked her up and down. Really, he could have done worse. Luna wasn't that bad, and she'd keep him amused for the rest of his life. Abandoning all pretense, Ron leaned down and kissed her. Seriously, what else could he have done?

Harry stepped out of the fireplace into his sitting room. Dimply was waiting for him there. She smiled and leapt out of her chair when he arrived. She bowed low.

"Master Harry, sir," she said politely. Draco came out of the fire behind Harry as she was saying this. She bowed to him also. "Master Draco." She turned back to Harry. "As we are entering into December tomorrow, we must start making Christmas preparations. How would you like the house decorated, and what would you like us to serve on Christmas day?"

"Er…." To be quite honest, Harry was clueless when it came to decorating. "Whatever you think…would be best…I guess." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Here, Harry," he said patiently. "I know something about cooking and decorating. Would you like me to plan out how to decorate the house?"

"Yes," Harry said immediately, relieved. Draco smiled mysteriously.

"All right," he said. "We'll get some lunch, and then I'll talk with Dimply."

"Okay," Harry said.

After a delicious lunch of a Russian dish called beef stroganoff, Harry trekked up to his room. He noticed that the house tried to be accommodating for his tiredness. The stairs became less steep and, oddly, at the same time, there seemed to be fewer steps.

When Harry reached his room, he undressed himself and fell into bed, exhaustion taking him. Knowing that there were only two Horcruxes left was a great relief. Harry knew that to destroy the last Horcrux, he would probably have to be in battle with Voldemort at the time, to gain access to Nagini.

With this thought, he fell asleep, green eyes sliding shut.

Draco finished laying out plans for the Christmas decorations with Dimply and then went upstairs. He pushed open the door, and closed it gently behind him. He paused, staring at the rumpled mass of covers and limbs that was Harry. A small smile lit his face as he watched his boyfriend, mouth open ever so slightly, eyes moving behind lids to indicate that he was having a dream, and fingers twitching slightly. Draco's smile became a grin as he slipped off his shoes and lay down beside Harry, stroking his hair. Harry's mouth slid shut, and he stirred while Draco looked on lovingly. Harry yawned, and Draco caught a whiff of morning breath. Draco frowned, and then grinned mischievously. Thinking hard for a moment, he watched with glee as Harry's mouth was suddenly attacked by a toothbrush.

"ARGGH!" Harry spluttered as the toothbrush began moving over his teeth. A small bowl appeared in the air beside him and he spat into it. His mouth filled with water and he swished, looking deeply displeased. He spat it out, and, just when he thought it was over, his mouth filled with a blue liquid called Listerine. Draco broke out in laughter when Harry's eyes bugged out of his head as the burning liquid began moving around in his mouth of its own accord.

Thirty seconds later, eyes watering, Harry was finally allowed to spit it out, which he did, very gratefully. Once he was done regaining his breath, he turned to Draco with grumpy eyes. "Why did you do that?" he snapped. Draco grinned.

"You had morning breath. No boyfriend of mine will walk around with morning breath," Draco said loftily.

Harry laughed, and pulled Draco down for another kiss.

**A/N:** This chapter was very difficult to write. Hopefully it wasn't as difficult to read. Well, the next chapter is the Christmas chapter! YAY! Well, I hope y'all liked this chapter. Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	16. Their First Christmas

**A/N: **Has anyone else noticed how long these chapters are becoming? Erm…I mean, how many chapters there are? Well…sorry, guys, I'm on my period, and I'm feeling all hormonal and moody and shit, and nothing really makes sense anymore. Anyway, I have a date! Aren't you all happy for me? The good thing about it is that it's next weekend, so my period will be done by that time. Actually, by the time I post this, the date will probably be done with. Heck, by the time I finish _writing_ this, it'll probably be over with anyway. Wow. I feel all twitchy. Lol. I just took two Midol, and they have caffeine in them, so that's why. Like, I'm tired, but awake at the same time. Wow. Okay. Well, Enjoy the chapter! If it's kind of weird, sorry. Adios!

-CatJetRat

_"When the decorations went up, Harry noticed that they were the most stunning he had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed between them."_—Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, page 395, paragraph 4.

**Chapter 16**

**Their First Christmas**

**Normal POV**

For Christmas, Hermione noted, the house-elves had really gone all out. Snow flakes fell from the ceiling and disappeared before reaching the ground, or anything else. A massive Christmas tree had been erected in the enormous sitting room, and another one in the entrance hallway, and the dining room. Little fairies danced around the house, enchanting objects to move and causing mischief, such as turning Draco's hair rainbow after catching him kissing Harry, something Draco did _not_ appreciate it, though Harry roared with laughter, until the fairy spotted him and put a big pink triangle on his face. They had come to Hermione, who, after laughing for a few minutes, looked up the counter spell.

Mistletoe had also been set up, and some were enchanted so that if two people accidentally walked under one together, were forced to kiss. Hermione saw Draco nearly burst a capillary when he caught Harry and Ron stuck underneath one of them. Several times, Hermione had been forced to kiss Harry, Draco, and, unfortunately, Ron, which had been highly uncomfortable, before Draco finally demanded that the fairies take the enchantment off. Actually, the fairies hadn't been Draco's idea. Unbeknownst to all of them except the house-elves, who had gleefully watched the fairies wreck havoc, the fairies grew in special flowers that grew in the woods, and they came out every Christmas to go have fun. Muggles couldn't see them, but they were the cause of many a burned Christmas dinner. Fidelis Cognatio was their favorite place, because it was so magical. Hermione had actually gotten to know a few of them, such as Flowilia, Beauticia, and Ralia. She convinced them to plant flowers all around Ron's bed, and which, at night, sang little fairy songs and lit up. She let them stay there for about a week, before finally taking pity on an exhausted Ron and asked Beauticia to remove them.

Other than that, the decorations were fairly standard. Little icicles were on the ceiling, and garlands of holly and ivy were strung up around the walls. All in all, Draco had done a fabulous job of decorating the house.

Hermione had been so relieved to find out that Ron had found his true love. She had been surprised that it was Luna Lovegood, but she reflected that they actually made a lovely couple. Luna had come to stay with them at the mansion, and she was sharing a room with Ron. She was the comic relief that they all needed, and was actually very intelligent, and was an excellent duelist. Hermione and she had spent many a day in a spare room, testing out jinxes and curses, and dueling each other.

Other than that, their days had become rather lazy, what with Christmas so close. Hermione had already bought her Christmas presents; a new broomstick for Ron, a book on Muggle conspiracy theories and myths for Luna, who knew a lot about Muggles, and was curious about their myths, a set of rare potion ingredients for Severus, special toothpaste from Weasley Wizards Wheezes for her parents, which changed colors to indicate the cleanliness of your teeth as you brush, a new book on spells and jinxes for Harry, and, though she had debated for a long time on what to get Draco, she had finally decided on a box set of his favorite sweets, since she knew he had a sweet tooth. The box included Fizzing Whizbees, Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, Ice Mice, Dark Chocolate Almond Toffee, exploding bonbons, and the peppermint creams shaped like toads. She also included something else she knew he loved, and they were a Muggle treat—Queen Anne's Chocolate Covered Cherries.

Aside from studying curses and dueling, Hermione had also taken to watching Harry and Draco, trying to figure out why they made such a perfect couple. She had been meaning to try and figure it out for a while, but, she reflected, leaning back in her chair and watching Harry struggle to open a Chocolate Frog while Draco watched with increasing amusement, she had never really had the time before. Now she did. She frowned as the package burst open, and the Frog jumped onto Harry's face. Draco burst out laughing, and Harry scrambled to get the frog off of his face, and Draco helped him, wiping the chocolate off his face, grinning all the while.

She rubbed her eyes, and watched them a bit more. When they had been in school, they had both been kings of their own world, worlds that were completely different. They were both so powerful, and loved by their friends, and yet so different. They were completely opposite in a way, and yet exactly they same. Harry had grown up with so little, and had become so sweet, and wonderful. Draco had grown up with everything, and had become a prat. It had taken losing all of that for him to see things the way they truly were. Hermione had to wonder if Draco had grown up the way Harry had, would he have turned out the way Harry did? After all, isn't one's personality dependant upon the way one is raised? And yet…it's also dependant upon one's own initial nature. It was the whole Nature vs. Nurture argument in the Muggle world, when discussing homosexuality. But it could apply to other things too. Hermione believed that Draco was initially a powerful person, dominating and protective, while Harry was naturally kind, with a strong sense of right and wrong. He wasn't, Hermione believed, as able to see the gray area, the way Draco could. Draco had a darker, more brooding personality, while Harry was more outgoing, and Draco could be outgoing in his own way, and Hermione knew he enjoyed attention, but, for the most part, he was more of a solitary person than Harry was.

Draco was smiling at Harry, affection in his eyes, as Harry began to debate with Ron over which English team was most likely to win in the coming up Quidditch season. He didn't join in, though. Instead, he stared into the fire, one hand holding Harry's, his face lost in thought. Hermione could identify. Being around Harry and Ron had been fun, but their personalities were just so contrasting, which was the main reason that a relationship with Ron wouldn't have worked. Luna was absorbed in a book, leaning against Ron's back. Her odd, patient personality was perfect for Ron's quick temper, and moody attitude.

Hermione sighed, and watched Harry talk with Ron, Luna read her book, and Draco stare into the fire, and smiled as she snuggled into her chair.

Harry woke up on Christmas morning expecting to see the usual bundle of presents at the foot of his bed, but nothing was there. He frowned, looking around, and saw Draco sleeping peacefully beside him. Nothing was at either of their feet. Harry, shrugged, figuring that the presents were probably down beside the tree. Harry turned to Draco, a smile lighting up on his lips.

"Draco," Harry whispered, nudging his shoulder. Draco mumbled incoherently, and covered his face with his arm. Harry smiled. "Come on, Draco, wake up. It's Christmas morning."

"Too early…"Draco muttered sleepily. Harry laughed, and Draco winced.

"It's ten-thirty in the morning," Harry said in amusement. "I think you can wake up."

Draco merely tried to pull the covers over his head, but Harry, laughing, pulled them back down. "Aw, Draco, come on. You can take a nice, warm shower, and have a cup of tea and some Christmas brunch."

Draco opened one eye, wincing. "Fine," he mumbled grumpily. Harry grinned, and Draco tumbled out of bed, stretching. Harry knew better than to try and talk to him any more before his first cup of tea, so they each went into their respective bathrooms, and Harry took a shower and got dressed, and then was forced to wait for Draco for fifteen minutes, but he knew better than to bug him. Harry had learned, after the first ten days of getting hexed each morning, that Draco was not a morning person, and didn't appreciate being forced to talk before he had taken a shower, had some tea, and something to eat. Getting him to wake up without jinxing the person who did so had been a big improvement. As Ron had unwisely chosen to point out to Harry in the presence of both Hermione and Draco, in the early morning, Draco was like a hormonal Hermione. For the rest of the day, he had walked around with make-up all over his face (courtesy of Hermione), and breasts that he couldn't get rid of (thanks to a cranky Draco). Of course, as Harry mentioned, at least the make-up was tastefully done.

When Draco finally emerged from the bathroom, looking moderately more cheerful, he and Harry walked silently down to the dining room (Draco still wasn't up to talking yet).

"Master Harry, sir!" Dimply cried cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!"

Harry smiled at her. "Merry Christmas to you too, Dimply," he said. Dimply glanced at Draco, but she too had learned to not talk to Draco in the morning hours. Draco plopped down into a seat beside Hermione grunted a "Merry Christmas" at her, pulled a cup of tea towards himself, and started pouring sugar and milk into it like a heroin addict. Harry grinned and sat down between Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Luna cheerfully. "Merry Christmas."

"You too, Luna," Harry said. He glanced at Ron. "Happy Christmas," he said, grinning. Ron grunted a reply. He, like Draco, was not a morning person.

Harry wished Hermione a Merry Christmas, and she smiled, and wished him one back. They began eating, but, only a few minutes after they began, Arilial entered the dining hall.

"Master Harry," she said, bowing. "Severus Snape is here."

"Let him in," Harry said. She nodded, and a second later, Snape swept in through the doorway. By habit, Harry's gaze cooled slightly upon seeing him. However, he banished the negative feelings that instantly arose in him at the sight of Severus Snape, and he rose up, ready to be a gracious host.

"Professor Snape," he said, inclining his head. "It's nice to see you again. Sit down and have brunch."

Snape nodded. "Thank you for having me as your guest," he said, and his voice was slightly tense, as if he too was fighting old dislike. "Please, call me Severus."

Harry smiled. "Okay…Severus," he said. The name sounded odd on his tongue, but strangely right. Hermione had leapt to her feet and swept around the table, flinging herself at her lover. He leaned down only slightly to kiss her. Luna looked on, mildly interested, while Harry looked down politely, and Draco seemed to be too absorbed in his tea to care. Only Ron looked slightly upset, and he looked away from the scene, his cheeks tingeing red. Harry sighed slightly. Ron was still learning to love Luna, but he seemed to be falling for her. Despite this, Harry suspected that he still loved Hermione, and it still hurt that she had left him for Severus.

Hermione and Severus pulled away, and sat down across from the rest of them. Hermione levitated her plate over to rest in front of her. Harry moved over a seat to sit beside Draco, who, with each sip of his tea, was looking more and more cheerful. Draco, Harry knew, loved Christmas. Harry didn't know what Draco had gotten him, but he had gotten Draco new dress robes, a new book on counter curses, which Draco seemed to find fascinating, and something a bit more personal, which he planned on giving Draco later that night. He had gotten Hermione a book on Arithmancy, a subject he knew she loved, and missed. He had also gotten her a book on setting up organizations, and the best way to go about it. He knew that since they had gotten to his house, she had begun planning for S.P.E.W., and was speaking with the house-elves in his home about it. Harry thought she would appreciate the book greatly. He had bought Luna a book on wizarding conspiracies of the past, something he knew she'd be interested in. For Ron, he had bought an autographed poster of the Chudley Cannons, and three tickets to their opening game, front row. He had been uncertain on whether or not to get Snape a present, then had decided on a new cauldron.

After breakfast was over, they assembled in the sitting room, where there was a tree that held all of their presents. Snape had bought all of them except Hermione the same thing, gift certificates for ten galleons each to Honeydukes. Hermione, he had bought a collection of books about Ancient Runes.

They all opened their gifts separately. Harry had received a book on spells and jinxes from Hermione, an odd-looking orange from Luna, which, according to her, helped ward off Rancixes, though exactly what Rancixes were, she couldn't say, since they were apparently invisible. From Draco, he got a Snitch—"To help you keep up on your game"— was Draco's mischievous explanation. Draco also got him an enchanted dagger.

"Whoever you stab it into will be healed instantly of all wounds, even mortal ones," Draco explained. Harry wasn't quite sure how that would work, but accepted his word for it.

Mrs. Weasley sent the usual package, a sweater and toffee, the Weasley twins sent him the latest items from their joke shop, which included a powder that, if thrown into an enemy's eyes, would blind them for ten minutes. When he got to Ron's present, however, he practically choked. He shoved the book back into the package and dragged a protesting Ron out of the room.

"What on earth is this!" Harry hissed, holding up the book.

Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "You wanted me to be supportive. Here's some support!" His grin faded at the look on Harry's face.

"Yes, but…" Harry held up the book, and said, in a horrified voice, "_Positions_? Honestly, Ron, where did you find this?"

"I dunno," Ron muttered. "I went into a book shop, said I needed a gift for my gay friend, and the sales clerk showed me this."

"_The Joy of Gay Sex_?" Harry said, mortified. "Ron, Draco and I aren't even having sex yet!"

"'Yet'," Ron said, shrugging. "I figured you might have some use for it later."

Harry sighed, burying his burning face in his arms. "Thanks for the gift, Ron, but really, you could have shown your support with a rainbow flag, or something."

Ron frowned, looking uncomfortable. "Right…well, I guess we should go back to the rest of them."

"Yes, let's," Harry muttered. They went back into the sitting room, and Harry sat beside Draco, feeling heartily embarrassed.

"What's that?" Draco asked, pointing casually at the present.

"I'll show you later," Harry muttered, flushing.

After all the presents were opened, and thank yous exchanged, and thank you notes written, Hermione and Severus wandered off for a walk among the grounds, Ron and Luna went to explore the basement, which Luna was convinced was infected with Wrackspurts, and Harry and Draco went upstairs. Draco was very patient, packing away all of his presents and waiting on the bed tolerantly for Harry to finish putting away all of his presents. Finally, there was nothing left o to do, and Harry was forced to walk over to the bed and sit down beside Draco. He felt uncomfortably hot, and unsure of himself. He handed Ron's present over, and Draco slid the wrapping off, and his only indication of surprise was the slight raising of his eyebrows as he took in the cover. He flipped through the book, his eyes widening ever-so-slightly, and, after a couple of minutes, looked at Harry skeptically.

"Weasley gave you this?" he asked in astonishment. "Wasn't he the one who was so freaked out about the whole gay thing?"

Harry shrugged miserably. "I dunno," he mumbled. "Ron said something about wanting to be supportive."

Draco snorted, but didn't press the subject, as if knowing it would upset Harry. He paused, staring at Harry's downcast eyes.

"I got you another present," he said softly. Harry looked up in surprise.

"Really? What is it?" Harry asked, all embarrassment forgotten. Draco smiled, and pulled out a small, velvet box from inside his robes.

Harry frowned, and reached out to take the box. Inside was a simple sterling silver ring with a blue-gray sapphire set in it. Harry reached into the box and took that ring out. It was actually a very beautiful thing.

"I—thank you," Harry said, taken aback.

"It's the Malfoy family ring. Our color is bluish-gray. Our jewel is a sapphire, and our metal is silver. It's supposed to have all sorts of magical properties attached to it. When the head Malfoy is ready to be engaged, he or she gives this ring to his/her chosen. Traditionally, the family ring is worn on the right hand." Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "And I—I know we've only been dating for a few months, but…I mean, we _are_ soul mates, and I mean, we don't have to get married right away, of course! But, I was thinking, once the war is over, if we both make it out alive, after we have careers, and all, well, I thought, maybe we could get married. I mean, I've always kind of wanted kids, and I just thought…." he trailed off uncertainly.

Harry stared at him in amazement, and pulled a different velvet box out of his robes. Draco paused, staring at it. He took it from Harry, as if transfixed. Inside was a fairly simple, yet beautiful gold ring, with a burning red ruby set in the gold.

"This is the Potter family ring. Dimply…she gave it to me a few weeks ago. Apparently, it also has many magical powers too, and it gives each person who wears it a gift. The Potter color is red, the jewel a ruby, and our metal is gold. I was going to ask you the same thing," Harry said, and felt hot tears prick the corners of his eyes.

Draco stared at this ring in shock, and slipped it on his right ring finger, where it fit perfectly. Harry placed the Malfoy family ring on his right ring finger, and it also fit perfectly. The velvet boxes vanished. Harry smiled, and pulled Draco towards him. Their lips met in passionate love, and Harry felt his heart swell up in his chest until he thought it might explode.

Hermione and Severus walked along the frozen apple orchard, and she debated within herself whether or not to tell him. She knew he wouldn't leave her, and she couldn't keep it to herself forever. Yet…telling him would make it so final. She had spent the last three weeks trying to find the words, and still, none would come. She took a deep breath, and prepared to tell him. Really, what was the worst that could happen? However, before she could utter a single word, Severus spoke.

"Hermione," he said in a slightly strangled voice. "I—you know I love you, right?"She nodded, unsure where this was leading. He couldn't be leaving her, could he? He spoke again. "Hermione, I know how unlikely it is that we shall both survive the war, even if we do win, but still…Hermione…I…." Severus stopped in the middle of the row and turned to face her. He knelt down on one knee, and removed the cauldron ring made of silver and onyx from his finger. Hermione thought her heart was going still in her chest. "Hermione, I would like you to be my wife."

"Severus!" she exclaimed, and suddenly she was crying as she flung herself into his arms. "Oh, Severus, of course I'll be your wife!"

He wrapped his arms around her, and tears were streaming from his eyes as he embraced the woman he loved. "But—Severus, there's something you should know."

"What is it?" he asked, concern lining his tone.

"I—oh, Severus, I'm pregnant!"

He stopped dead, staring at her in utter amazement. "But—we've only…once!"

"I know!" she cried. "But when I didn't get my period, I knew."

Slowly, as he stared at her, delight began to catch in his features. "Oh, Hermione, that's wonderful!" he cried out, embracing her. "I'm so glad! How far along are you?"

"Three months, I believe," she said, relieved that he wasn't upset. But he seemed to be nothing but delighted.

"Oh…Hermione." Severus's voice caught, as if he were so overcome with joy he was almost incapable of speech. "I'm so…so happy."

Hermione smiled. "I suppose we'll have to tell the others. This will be two big pieces of news."

"Yes. We have so much planning to do!" Severus said quickly.

"Well, don't look to me to decorate. Maybe Draco will be willing. He did a pretty good job on the house..." Hermione mused. "When do you want to get married?"

"How about on January 4th?" Severus suggested.

"January 4th?" Hermione said in alarm. "But that's less than ten days away!"

Severus shrugged. "I know. But I think we can manage it. Unless you want something special."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I was never one of those girls who spent her childhood planning her wedding. A simple one with close friends and family will more than suffice. But…why January 4th?"

Severus grinned. "Because that was the date, one year ago, when I finally saw you for you, and I stopped resenting you, and started to care about you."

Hermione's eyes melted, and she leaned up to kiss him again.

**A/N:** Okay, well, that was a plot twist I didn't see coming. Um…tell me…because I couldn't figure it out. Three months would be about right, right? Well, I guess the next chapter will be the wedding one, and it may turn out to be short. I'm surprised at how quickly I finished this chapter. I know my newer chapters are much shorter, but, I dunno, I just end them when they seem right to be ended. Review! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	17. A Wedding of Remembrance

**A/N: **Hey, y'all. Here's yet another chapter. Actually, as I'm writing this, I haven't yet posted the fifteenth chapter. My stupid floppy disk wasn't working, and I couldn't send it to my beta. But tomorrow, I promise you, I will send it to her! Wait. What the hell am I telling y'all for? By the time you all read this, it, as well as chapter 15, will already be posted! It's odd, thinking about it. I dunno. Enjoy the next chapter! The likely short(and completely unexpected) wedding chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**WARNING:** Character death. Sorry!

_'"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go_….

_…The surface of Hermione's potion, however, was a shimmering mist of silver vapor, and as Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at it without comment, which meant that he could find nothing to criticize.'_—Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, page 233, paragraphs 3 & 4.

_'"I've got something for you, Harry," said Hermione_…._"Oh, hang on—password. _Abstinence._"_

_"Precisely," said the Fat Lady_….—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 351, paragraphs 8 & 9.

_'"Dumbledore's dead," said Ginny_...

_"Snape killed him," said Harry_….

_Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth…'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 614, paragraphs 2, 5, & 6.

**Chapter 17**

**A Wedding of Remembrance**

**Normal POV**

"YOU'RE WHAT??!!" Harry shouted in horror as Hermione stood nervously before him.

"I'm pregnant," she said in a small voice.

Harry sank back on the couch behind him and stared at her in absolute astonishment. "Are you keeping it?" he asked finally.

"Well," Hermione said, now in a slightly defensive tone. "Yes. Severus and I…well, we decided that we should get married."

At these words Harry leapt to his feet again. "Are you serious?!" he exclaimed. "But…you're only seventeen. I mean…it was less than seven years ago when we met." His voice softened. "I just…I wish we weren't growing up so fast." He sat back down and hunched over, sighing. A small smile crossed his face. "I still remember the time Ron and I snuck out to fight Draco and his friends, and you came with us, condemning us all the way."

Hermione laughed softly and sat down beside him. "I was so angry at the both of you, and I was terrified that we would get expelled. Remember when you and Ron saved me from the troll?"

"Yeah. That was when we truly became friends." Harry snickered. "You were in love with Professor Lockhart."

Hermione frowned defensively. "I was not! I just…thought he was a good teacher, that's all."

"Of course," Harry said, grinning. "That's all. Remember that time in third year, when you punched Draco for sneering about Hagrid?"

Hermione laughed. "Of course. How could I forget? Good times."

"Hey!" said a voice from the hallway. "I resent that." A few seconds later Draco came in, a small smile on his face. "I heard Harry yelling. Figured it must be important. What's going on?"

As Hermione explained the situation to a disbelieving Draco, Harry stared at his best friend and his fiancé. So much was happening all at once. Harry would have thought that Hermione would want to finish her school years before even getting engaged. And now here she was, less than nine days away from getting married. And she was pregnant! Harry's eyes dropped down to her stomach, and he saw nothing. But she was expecting in seven months, so she had plenty of time to grow.

"So, Draco, if you could plan it, that would be wonderful!"

"Well, sure. I mean, I used to plan m-my mother's Christmas parties. I was good at that. I'll give it a go," Draco said.

Harry stood up. "Hermione," he said thickly. "I just wanted you to know that I'm very happy for you—and I hope…I hope you'll be happy."

A slow, but brilliant smile began to cross Hermione's face. "Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you feel that way. I was afraid…but it doesn't matter now. Thank you for your blessing."

"Blessing for what?"

Hermione jerked way from Harry and her head flew around towards the door to the living room. Harry's heart sank as he saw Ron standing there, an innocent, curious expression on his face. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione looked back at Harry, fear in her eyes, but Harry nodded encouragingly. She walked over tentatively to Ron. "Ron," she said hesitantly. "There's something I need to tell you."

Harry reached out and tapped Draco on the shoulder. "Come on," he murmured in Draco's ear when he turned around. "We don't have to see this. And you can begin to plan Hermione's wedding. Draco nodded quickly, and the two of them left.

Severus Snape raised his hand to knock, then lowered it, then raised it again, and managed to knock on the old wooden door. A few seconds later the door was pulled open.

Time had not had much effect upon Eileen Prince, Severus mused. Still sour-faced and sallow-skinned, the bitter woman look as weak and frail as she always had. Her wand was raised in defense, but once she saw it was her son, she lowered it.

"Oh, it's you," she said hoarsely. Her arm fell to her side as she turned around and began to walk back into her home. "I thought it was those bloody Muggle sales people, whatever they're called."

"Door-to-door salesmen?" Severus suggested quietly. "Fundraisers?"

"Ah, that's what they call themselves!" Eileen exclaimed, sitting down in the only chair in the living room. "Always a good cause." She pulled out a flask of whiskey and took a long draft, then offered it to her son, who shook his head.

"Still not drinking, I see," she said, eyeballing him.

Severus sighed slightly. "No, mother. You know why."

She waved her hand at him, waving the matter away. "So what do you want? Money? I told you, your father left me nothing."

"You know that I've never asked you for anything," Severus said flatly, trying to keep his voice under control.

"Yes, well, you're stubborn that way. I always knew that that habit would get you mixed up with the wrong crowd. Never ask for help, accept nothing. You know you're lucky you didn't get into Azkaban."

"Yes, mother, I'm perfectly aware," Severus replied, a bite of impatience entering his voice.

She glared at him. "Don't talk back to me, you."

Severus bite his lip, resisting the temptation to reply scathingly.

"So why have you come, anyway?" Eileen snapped. "Make it quick; I haven't got all day."

"I'm getting married," Severus said quickly, before his anger could control him. "My fiancée is pregnant with my child. We're getting married on the fourth of January. A small affair, at a friend's house. I thought you might want to know."

Eileen stared at him, all cruel remarks vanished from her lips. "I'm going to be a grandmother?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Severus said, gazing at her face, which looked lighter than it had in ages. "Would you like to come to the wedding? Meet her?"

Eileen lowered her eyes to the ground, and said mellifluously, "I would indeed like that. Very much."

Severus inhaled sharply. He had rather expected her to make some sneering remark and turn down his offer. That she hadn't—Severus couldn't even allow himself to revel in it. "Then I will pick you up at ten o'clock on the fourth." He bowed to her, then turned to leave.

He was almost at the door when her voice stopped him. "And Severus?" she said softly.

He looked back at her, and almost thought he caught a gleam of tears in her coal black eyes, reflected in his own. "I am happy for you."

The days passed with little activity. Harry and Ron tried to stay out of Draco's way while he planned the wedding. One time Harry ventured near him to help while he was planning and received a hearty growl for his efforts. Ron had attempted a suggestion about where to hold the wedding and almost got hexed. Draco had already decided it was to be held in a park a few block away from Fidelis Cognatio.

Hermione, meanwhile, was nervous and terrified. She spent long hours prattling to Harry about how scared she was, how young, how inexperienced…and what if the dress wasn't right? Harry, however, got great experience in tuning her out, after the first hundred times when she asked him if he thought the dress color was right. And who should her bridesmaids be? Well, obviously there was Ginny to consider, but how tasteful would that be considering that Hermione had broken up with Ginny's brother for another. Well, what about Parvati and Lavender? But they had never really been friends anyway. Why couldn't she have bridesmen? Ron and Harry would be ideal for that! And they were her best friends, too! Harry sighed and let his head slump backwards on the couch. Hermione, oblivious to this, continued to rattle on.

January 4th was fast approaching. On New Year's Eve, Harry and Draco finally managed to have some time to themselves.

"Harry," Draco said softly, frowning down at the Sudoku puzzle he was working on. Sudoku, a numbers game, was what Draco did to help himself relax when he wasn't working on the wedding plans. Harry personally couldn't figure them out, but Draco seemed to like them, so….

"Yes, Draco?" Harry said, looking up from his spellbook.

"Will…" Draco hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Will we…ever get married?"

"Of course," Harry said, now completely diverting his attention to Draco, confusion flashing in his emerald eyes. He held up his hand, on which the Malfoy ring gleamed. "Remember what we promised each other at Christmas?"

"Yes, but…I've been doing some reading lately, and, well, neither in England or the magical world does it say anything about gay marriage being legal."

"Well," Harry started, bewildered. "I mean, I know gay marriage is legal in Canada, Spain, Belgium, and some state in the U.S.A.—"

"Massachusetts," Draco muttered.

"Yeah," Harry said, standing up. "Massachusetts. So we'll just go there to get married. Or we'll wait until England legalizes gay marriage. Or we won't. What does it matter if out marriage is legal in the eyes of the law, as long as it's real in the eyes of the people we love, and us?"

Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "I dunno," he muttered. "Just…I wish everything wasn't so complicated. Can't there be one thing in our lives that is full of death, hatred, and confusion?"

"There is," Harry whispered, kneeling in front of him. "This." And Harry kissed Draco. He felt…wonderful when he kissed his love. And, more than that, he felt ready. He pulled away from Draco, looking him in the eye.

"Are you ready?" he said softly, and there was no mistaking his meaning.

"Yes," Draco whispered. "I'm ready."

On the morning of January 4th, Hermione was calmer than she had been before. That is, she wasn't hexing everything that got in her way.

"I'm ready, you know. I'm just ready. I mean, now that the day is finally here, I just feel ready, you know?" she babbled.

"I know," Draco smiled, adjusting her dress. Harry had attempted to help her dress at first, but that had been disastrous, so Draco took over for him. Draco glanced off to the side, where Harry stood in front of the mirror, in a last-ditch attempt to flatten his hair, and allowed a small smile to creep over his face as he took in the sight of his lover. Lover. What a beautiful word. Draco began to reminisce about the things they had done the night before, over, and over….

Draco flushed as he realized what he was thinking about, and hurriedly concentrated on Hermione's hair.

"I mean, it's not like I'm _not_ ready, it's just, I'm nervous, but it's normal to be nervous, so why should I care, I mean, right? I'm just about to commit myself to one person for life, why should I be nervous?"

Draco grinned. "Don't worry Hermione, it's normal to be nervous."

"It's time," Mrs. Granger, Hermione's mother, squealed. Hermione's parents had come out for the ceremony, and were positively thrilled for their only daughter.

"Okay, I'm ready," Hermione gasped, standing up. Draco handed her the bouquet, full of roses he had picked out himself to match her lovely blue and green dress.

"You'll be fine," he told her gently. She smiled at him, and took her father's arm. Draco reached out and grasped Harry's arm, feeling like they hadn't touched in months. Harry smiled knowingly at him, at they got in front of Hermione. Slowly, they walked down the aisles. Harry had to admit, even Snape, though he was loathe to say it, cleaned up nicely. Harry and Draco separated when they reached the end of the aisle, Draco going to Snape's side to stand with Pansy, and Harry going to Hermione's side to stand with Ron.

Hermione looked beautiful, and Snape looked, well, handsome wasn't quite the word, but he didn't look bad. He and she stood together in front of the ministry official, recited their vows, and signed their certificate.

The ministry official smiled slightly, and said, "You may kiss the bride."

Severus smiled, and leaned down, kissing Hermione. The crowd cheered, and all was well.

Then.

Then Professor Flitwick came rushing down the aisle. His face was sooty, he had scratches all along his face and arms, and he was out of breath.

"Professor Flitwick!" Harry cried, as the man collapsed in front of him. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"It's…Professor McGonagall," he panted. "She and I were collected potion ingredients and spellbooks in Diagon Alley. We thought we were well-hidden, but we were attacked by Death Eaters. They took her, and told me to tell you that if you ever wanted to see again, you would agree to go into battle with the Dark Lord on June 16th."

Harry sat down, winded. "Well," Flitwick said. "What is your answer?"

"His answer," Draco said coldly, stepping in front of him, "Is that tricking us will not do." Draco pointed his wand at Flitwick, who rose up in the air, choking. "Where are they, Macnair?"

Flitwick snickered, and Harry saw that Draco was right. This was not Professor Flitwick at all.

"They are dead," he sneered. "And you will be too, very soon. As for you, Malfoy, he wants you to know that your death will be much more painful than you ever dreamed of."

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Macnair fell to the ground dead.

"Harry," Draco whispered. "We could have used him for information."

"No, we couldn't have," Harry said, fury bubbling in him. "Voldemort would not have sent us a lackey with information. He would have known better than that." Harry looked towards Draco, and wrapped him in a hug. "No one threatens you and gets away with it."

Harry released him, and stared down at the dead body, which had transformed into Macnair's.

"I'm done waiting," he said softly. "In one fortnight-we fight."

**A/N:** Man, that was the hardest freaking chapter to write, I swear. I don't even know how I finished it. I thought I could be long done with this story by now, and well into the next one. I guess other stuff just got in the way. Oh well. So, that chapter took an unexpected turn. I hope y'all liked it. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	18. Preparation and Deceit

**A/N:** My only hope is that this chapter is easier to write than the last one was, and it turns out better. Maybe that's two hopes. Anyway, continue on! Adios!

-CatJetRat

_"She's not here, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey sadly. "She was transferred to St. Mungo's this morning. Four Stunning Spells straight to the chest at her age? It's a wonder they didn't kill her."_

_"She's…gone?" said Harry, stunned_….

_There was nobody left to tell. Dumbledore had gone, Hagrid had gone, but he had always expected Professor McGonagall to be there, irascible and inflexible, perhaps, but always dependably, solidly present_…."—Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 32, page 730, paragraphs 5,6, & 8

**Chapter 18**

**Preparation and Deceit**

**Normal POV**

Harry's gaze flickered over the objects in his room. Spell books, scattered around the room, bookmarks filling them. Clothes he needed to wash. Vases he had conjured and subsequently smashed after he had stormed up to the house, and his and Draco's room and slammed the door. No one had ventured up here for hours. Harry imagined that everyone had gone home. Harry dully wondered what they had done with Macnair's body.

_The body of the man you killed_. A voice was hissing at him. Harry couldn't tell if it was his conscience, or a spell. He couldn't bring himself to care. For the first two hours he had been furious, smashing things as fast as he could conjure them. Then he had cried for another hour. Now he was just sitting, without knowledge of what to do, what to say. Could he venture down to see his friends? Would they be able to look him in the eye? Harry didn't understand why he had done what he did. Just…the moment Macnair had threatened Draco, Harry felt such a powerful fury and fear rise up inside of him, that all he could do was raise his wand, and protect the one he loved. But…it was inside of him now.

Harry rose up and paced furiously. Never before had he felt so restless. Not even the summer before his fifth year, when he had been trapped with the Dursleys for two months. No. Now, he wanted to scream and cry and take it back while making Macnair suffer more than ever for daring to threaten Draco. Harry ran over to a wall and slammed his fist into it, then jerked away, surprised at the dent he had made in it. He stared at it lazily for a few moments, feeling like he could finally relax. But then the wall smoothed itself out again. A moment later, the wall looked as if it had never even been tapped. Furious, Harry slammed his fist into it again, and watched as it evened itself again. Harry began pounding the wall over and over again. He would make it hurt. He was vaguely aware that his knuckles were bleeding. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was drowning out the voices screaming at him what he'd done.

Tears poured out of his eyes, mixing with the blood falling on the floor. He was a murderer. A murderer. Murderer. Three syllables. But wasn't three a magical number? It shouldn't be. Nothing was the same. Nothing was ever the same. And nothing was ever going to be all right again. He could never sit with that same innocence with his friends. He could never laugh and joke the same again. Because now he was a killer. Now he was like the Death Eaters he so loathed. How could he come back from that? What was there in the world he could do? He was trapped between what was real, and what was fantasy. Someone was screaming his name, or was that his own voice, calling him what he was? What was he? Murderer? Murdered?

"HARRY!" Strong hands wrapped around the arm he was using to punch the wall and yanked him harshly backwards. Harry looked up through a sheen of tears at the dented, bloodstained wall. A face came between the wall and his gaze. Harry went cross-eyed for a moment, and then, slowly, into view came a pale, pointed face, matured with age, blond hair grown out and falling gently over his silver, beautiful eyes. Eyes he would die for to never see dim. Eyes he would kill for. Eyes he _had_ killed for.

"Draco," Harry mumbled, shifting his gaze to focus on Draco's face, creased in worry and fear.

Draco looked down at Harry's broken, bleeding hand. His gaze turned horrified. "Look what you did to yourself," he hissed, gingerly picking up Harry's hand. Harry winced, but didn't take his eyes off of Draco's face. He found that he could not. What beauty this face held. His head cleared. He would kill again for this face. For this person he loved so.

Harry stood up unsteadily. The wall was clean and level again. A small smile lit his face. Just the way it should be. "Why did you do this?" Draco demanded. He didn't wait for an answer. "Macnair isn't worth this, Harry. We need you. We need you to not break. _I_ need you to be strong. How are we supposed to win this war if you fall apart every time you have to kill someone? You're going to have to kill again. This isn't—"

Harry had had enough. Leaning down, he silenced Draco with a kiss, which he bemusedly returned. "I know what I have to do," he whispered, barely pulling away from Draco. "And I'll do it for you. As long as you're beside me, I won't break."

"Good," Draco said flatly. "And I'll always be beside you. We will fight together, and, if need be, die together."

Harry laughed slightly. "I'll die first," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against Draco's.

Draco grinned. "Not if I get there before you. You know you could never beat me."

Harry snorted. "I think I could name several Quidditch matches which would beg to differ."

Draco sneered. "I had a bad team backing me up. Put you against me, and I'd beat you any day."

"Really?" Harry sneered right back. "We'll have to see about that, after the battle."

Draco's smile faded somewhat. "Do you really think we'll make it?" he asked, and there was no kidding in his voice.

"Of course we will," Harry said firmly. "There's no way either of us is going to the grave with a challenge like that unmet."

Draco snickered. "I don't think there's any question which one of us is better."

As they bantered, the house watched them silently, her heart filled with fear of the war to come. If they were both to die, there would be no Potter to come back, ever again. Fidelis sighed, and stretched out long arms to banish the darkness invading young Harry's heart. He would need all the good he could muster to defeat the most powerful evil in the world.

She observed the Malfoy heir, and smiled at his Light aura, which had not faded. She had been slightly worried that the Light magic she had filled him with might fade, that he might be naturally drawn towards the Dark Arts. But no, he was actually inclined towards Light magic. If she wasn't mistaken, his aura had actually grown stronger. Content that her masters were going to be all right, she went back into her sleep. Most of the time, she slept, but young Harry, bursting into the house and malodorous with the air of a Dark spell recently performed on a human, had awoken her. Now that he was okay, she could rest again.

Harry shook his head at Draco, the corners of his lips curving up slightly. "We have to go to Hogwarts, you know. We have to see how the rest of the school is holding up."

Draco nodded. "You're right," he said, and muttered a healing spell for Harry's hand. "Let's go."

Harry and Draco went downstairs, where Hermione, Severus, Ron and Luna were waiting. Ron and Hermione looked worried, and Severus looked slightly irritated.

"Harry," Hermione said. "Are you okay? We heard…shouting."

Harry smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. I'll be okay." He had to be. He couldn't afford to not be.

His face settled. "We need to go to Hogwarts, and check on the students." Harry summoned his cloak and began heading towards the fireplace. "I'm not sure how well the Fidelius charm will hold now that McGonagall and Flitwick are gone. Or if it will hold at all, actually."

"You needn't worry, Mr. Potter," came a voice from behind them. Harry and Draco whipped around, pulling out their wands. Standing before them was Minerva McGonagall.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry gasped, and, unable to contain himself, he rushed forward and pulled her into a hard hug. "I thought you were dead."

McGonagall smiled, almost gently, and hugged him back. "Don't worry, Harry. It will take more than a couple flunky Death Eaters to finish off me. But—to business," she said sharply, pulling away from him.

Harry gestured for her to sit, which she did, gratefully, pulling off her cloak and handing it to a house elf. Draco sat next to Harry, a familiar air of superiority about him as he sat up straight. Harry fought back the urge to snicker. Hermione and the others sat as well, leaning in close to the Professor. She took a deep breath, and began.

"While I am not dead, I was attacked when I was with Filius. Death Eaters, doubtless sent to discover your location, and the location of Hogwarts."

"Why were you out of the castle at all?" Severus interrupted, his face dark. "You were putting the students in great danger, leaving them alone."

McGonagall sighed deeply, folding her hands in her lap. "Yes, I know. But we needed supplies, and I didn't feel comfortable sending the students out. Filius wasn't supposed to be there at all, but he came to tell me we needed potion supplies that I hadn't foreseen, to aid the students who were ill. He was only there for a moment, and that's when we were attacked. Macnair, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle were the fools sent to attack us. I finished off Crabbe, and Filius positively destroyed Nott, and Goyle was taken into custody. I don't know what became of Macnair."

"I do," Harry said gravely. "He came here, under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, disguised as Professor Flitwick. He told us that you had died. But Draco saw through the disguise," Harry said, his voice full of barely concealed admiration for his love. "He told us that the both of you were dead, and then he threatened Draco, so I killed him."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Well, Potter," she said. "That's—unfortunate. He might have been useful."

Harry bowed his head, slightly ashamed, but looked back up, gaze determined. "You're right. But no one threatens those I love." His hand curled around Draco's as he said that. McGonagall looked back and forth between them, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of sympathy in her eyes.

"I understand," she said gently. "But Potter, lives depend on the actions you take. You cannot be so rash in the future. It could mean someone's life if you overreact to a shallow threat."

Harry nodded, and she sighed. "I do have bad news, though. Filius Flitwick is, unfortunately, dead. Crabbe killed him right after Filius killed Nott. I slaughtered Crabbe a second too late," she snarled, and a fire came into her eyes. It did not fade, and she looked at Harry with bright eyes. "One of our allies is now dead. We must take the offensive. If Voldemort continues as such, he will be strong where we are weak. I fear that he is already."

"I already made the proclamation," Harry told her. "In one fortnight, we fight."

"Good," she said firmly. "I will make sure that all the Order is behind you, Harry. And whatever of the Ministry I can garner. I am sure that they would be happy to help." She stood up. "Now I must go and protect my school. I will meet with you at one o'clock sharp to discuss battle plans. The Order of the Phoenix will be there."

Harry and Draco led her to the fireplace, while the others stayed behind to discuss what they had seen. She picked up a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fire. She looked back at Harry. "Harry," she said gravely. "Albus may be gone, but I am not. I will make sure to do him proud." She embraced him, and then Draco. Her catlike eyes moved from his face, to Draco's, then back to his. "Farewell." She turned to the fire. "Hogwarts!" she cried, and went into green flames.

Harry stared at the place she had stood, his heart torn. On the one hand, he was happy that she was alive, on the other, sad because Flitwick was not. Harry felt a strong, warm hand cover his own, and he looked up into the silver eyes of his boyfriend. A smile was caressing his face. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's go back."

**A/N: **I wasn't originally going to end it there, but I sort of need it to. I think I know what the next chapter will hold, though. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	19. Battle Plans

**A/N:** New chapters are ALWAYS fun! Lol. So, yeah, here it is. Adios!

-CatJetRat

"_What_ is_ this place anyway?" he (Harry) shot at Ron and Hermione._

_"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," said Ron at once._

_"Is anyone going to bother telling me what the Order of the Phoenix—?"_

_"It's a secret society," said Hermione quickly. "Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time."_—Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, chapter four, page 67, paragraphs 1-3.

**Chapter 19**

**Battle Plans**

**Normal POV**

Harry wanted to scream. He could barely hear himself think over the din. Everyone was yelling! Draco was yelling, Hermione was yelling, Ron was yelling, everyone was yelling! What the hell? The meeting had started out nicely enough, everyone getting along, and Harry had begun to talk about the Horcruxes, and how he needed to take those out before taking Voldemort on, and where he thought they might be. Then Kingsley raised his voice about _one_ _thing_, and then they were off. Everyone was yelling.

"ENOUGH!" Harry finally shouted, and everyone froze, heads swiveling around to him. He stood up, hands clenching the sides of the table.

"Now I don't know what became of the Order after Dumbledore died," he said in a low voice. "But I would have thought that you would have maintained _some level_ of discipline. This is ridiculous! We're trying to defeat Voldemort—" Several people flinched at the sound of the name, but Harry ignored them, "—and all you can do is sit around, arguing with each other! How on earth you ever got _anything_ done if this is how the meetings usually go is beyond me."

"Usually we had Dumbledore to steer the meetings," Tonks said quietly. Harry looked at her.

"Well, now you have me to lead you," Harry said in a hard voice. "We need to defeat Voldemort, and I have an idea of how to do that, but I can't, unless you all band together and follow my lead. This _must not_ fail, or else we die, and the wizarding world as we know it falls."

The entire room seemed to sober at his words, and all gazed at him in rapt attention.

"Now," Harry said slowly. "Here's the plan…."

After the meeting ended, Harry and the others left for Fidelis Cognatio. Once they got there, they ate lunch, and then went up to their respective rooms to plan and recuperate. Later, they were going to practice dueling and new spells.

Harry sank onto his and Draco's bed, exhausted but pleased. Plans were rushing through his mind, and his eyes darted around the room aimlessly, thinking. Draco lay down beside him, resting his head on Harry's chest. Harry automatically brought one hand up to stroke the soft hair on Draco's head, relaxing immediately. Draco closed his eyes and smiled. Harry thought he almost heard a purr emanating from Draco's throat. He grinned.

"You're like a big cat," he said. Draco rolled over to look at him properly.

"Well my Animagus form _is_ that of a white Siberian tiger," Draco said slyly.

"What?" Harry stared at him, stunned. "You're an Animagus? You never told me that!"

Draco smirked. "We all have our secrets, Harry. You never told me you used to fancy Weasley."

"I never did!"

"Oh," Draco shrugged. "Well, whatever. I'm sure there are things you've never told me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like the fact that sometimes you're an annoying, pompous git?"

Draco shook his head. "Nope. You've told me that before."

Harry laughed, and seized Draco's arms, pulling him closer and planting a kiss on his lips.

"And I guess I already told you that you're ridiculously beautiful?" Harry said, smiling.

Draco grimaced, struggling feebly in Harry's arms. "Have I ever told you you're unbelievably corny?"

Harry laughed, and Draco laughed with him. They kissed again, and Harry gazed down at Draco's face, wondering how he could ever have despised looking upon it. Fear gripped his heart as he remembered that they were going to go to battle in less than two weeks. What if something happened to Draco? How could he live with that? He remembered breaking up with Ginny just to avoid letting something happen to her. Now Ginny seemed like a distant memory, his feelings for her miniscule in comparison to the overwhelming love he felt for the man in front of him. Draco must have seen the terror and love flit across Harry's face, for he frowned worriedly, sitting up.

"Harry, are you okay?" he asked. Harry nodded, a lump in his throat.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm just so scared that something might happen to you.

Draco's face turned serious. "Harry, you can't let the Dark Lord know that. If he looks into your mind and sees how much you care about me, he could kill me just to get back at you. If that happens, you can't fall apart in battle."

"But I won't let you die," Harry said flatly.

"Then don't," Draco snapped. "Learn to fight him. Learn Occlumency! I'm sure Snape would be willing to teach you. Don't let the Dark Lord know who he could kill that would hurt you the most, because I guarantee that he will!"

"You're right," Harry said, the realization hitting him. "I have to learn Occlumency." He began to rise. "I'll go to Snape right now and—"

Draco caught his arm. "It can wait for a few hours," he told Harry. "Right now, I have other plans." He grinned impishly, and pulled Harry back onto the bed, bringing him into a kiss and running his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry shivered at the touch, nipples going hard as well as his cock.

Draco pulled off Harry's clothes slowly, making Harry groan in frustration. However, Harry was soon naked while Draco was fully clothed. Draco pushed him back into the bed and leaned down over him, kissing him fiercely and running a hand down the length of his body. There was something oddly erotic about kissing Draco, who was fully clothed, while he was naked. Something exciting. Harry felt himself rise even further as he began to kiss Draco with more desperation, tugging at his clothing. Draco refused to let himself be undressed, though, and stayed Harry's hands. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Harry tore a hand free and practically ripped Draco's shirt off.

Abandoning his pretense entirely, Draco allowed his own desire to be shown and pulled off his clothes too, as quickly as possible. After he was as nude as Harry, he grabbed the lubricant off of the bedside table and prepared Harry, who groaned and thrust into his fingers. Draco made sure that he was well-lubricated and thrust into Harry with a groan. He moved back and forth, with each thrust kissing Harry, and then pulling back, moving forward and kissing him again.

They spent the next two hours doing just that, and, after they were both down, showered together and went downstairs.

Harry did as Draco suggested and requested Occlumency lessons from Snape, who was happy to give them. This time, it was easier for Harry to relax his mind around Snape, and proved much better at Occlumency. He found that it was indeed like resisting the Imperius Curse, and, with that as a basis, was able to figure out how to control himself.

Perhaps it also helped that he was no longer an angry, confused, and trapped fifteen-year old. Who knows?

Over the next couple of weeks, all they did was study, practice, and have Order meetings. The morning of the battle, Harry felt refreshed and ready, certain that they had done all they could to prepare. He sat at the dining room table nervously, running over plans with Hermione. Ron and Luna had already left to do their part, as had Snape. Both he and Harry hadn't wanted Hermione to participate in the battle originally, due to her impregnated state, but she refused to back out.

"What if something happens to you two? Or Draco, Ron or Luna, and I wasn't there to perhaps prevent it?" she had told them furiously. "I'd never be able to forgive myself."

So Harry and Snape, with the utmost reluctance, agreed to allow her to take part. She would indeed be a valuable asset, due to her brilliance. And she was right—there was much she might be able to prevent, but Harry was still worried that she might lose the baby. She had tried to placate him by telling him she had placed a spell on her womb which would protect the child, but this did little to alleviate Harry's concern.

But it wasn't something he could worry about. After running over the plan with Hermione one more time, to assure him that all would be well, she left, to go set up her part of the attack.

Harry leaned back in his chair, nervously running his hands through his hair, messing it up even more. Slughorn had provided them all with a little Felix Felicis, to help them in battle, and Harry hoped that it, coupled with their plans, would be enough.

Warm hands ran themselves through his hair and he instantly relaxed. "It'll be fine, Harry," Draco said reassuringly. "Just keep your mind on your goal: defeating the Dark Lord. Nothing else matters."

Harry bit back words that were bursting to come forth: _You matter_. But he couldn't say that, because he knew that Draco would disagree with him. They would be fighting side by side, and, as much as Harry didn't want Draco to get hurt, he would rather die beside him than any other person. He could only hope that no one would have to die.

Two hours later, Harry and Draco were digging up Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave. Having enchanted shovels to dig for them, they were nervously looking around the graveyard, watching for Voldemort's Death Eaters.

"Merlin, hurry!" Draco hissed at the shovels, pointing his wand. They instantly began to dig faster. A few moments later the shovels hit something hard. "Ready, Harry?" Draco asked. Harry nodded, and, with a wave of their wands, levitated the coffin out of the ground. Harry used the same spells he had on the painting to determine if there were any protective spells on the coffin. There was nothing.

"I don't understand," Harry said, frowning, and walked over, pulling the top off of the coffin. A gruesome sight met his eyes; that of the rotted skeleton of Tom Riddle, Voldemort's father. Harry winced, but looked around the body for a Horcrux. He found none. "It doesn't make sense. Where—?"

"I would think it would be obvious, Potter."

Harry whipped around, wand at the ready. Voldemort stood there, red eyes glaring at him from a twisted mask. He was alone.

"My Horcrux isn't there, Potter," he said in his high, cold voice. "And you shall never find it. Dumbledore was the only one closest to my match. Now he is dead. Do you really think you stand a chance against me?"

"Yes," Harry said simply. "I do."

Voldemort laughed; a high, terrible laugh, and all around him Death Eaters Apparated to his side. Harry felt a cold chill that told him Dementors were there. Off in the distance, he heard loud footsteps to indicate the presence of giants. A moment later, on Harry's side, Order members Apparated all around him and Draco, wands at the ready. Dolohov let out a yell and fired a stunning spell.

The battle had begun.

**A/N:** Oh, I'm a terrible person. And its so cliché, isn't it, to end it there? But you know I had to. Well, next chapter should be buckets of fun, with the battle and everything. I'm not sure how long it'll be. I'll probably show it from many different viewpoints. That'll be fun, right? Lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	20. Nagini and the Last Horcrux

**A/N: **I'm sort of scared. I mean, this is the twentieth chapter, which is cool, and all. I mean, I've never gotten this far in a story before, and now this story is officially as long as 'Just Like You', but…only two or three more chapters, and it'll be over! Humph. Lol. Anyway, I'm not quite sure how long this chapter will be, after all, it IS a battle chapter, but I'll try and make it long. The battle will be portrayed from many people's POVs, to give the full scope of the battle. Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

'_Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no hope…no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet…he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible_….'—Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 34, page 662, paragraph 6.

**Warning:** Character death. I won't say who, but a couple major characters. Sorry.

**Chapter 20**

**Nagini and the Last Horcrux**

**Normal POV**

Harry raised a stunning shield to surround him and the others, deflecting the stunning spell Dolohov had fired. The spell reflected off of the shield, and Dolohov ducked. The Order members flew into action, Draco taking on Dolohov, and the others choosing their opponents. Harry and Voldemort were left for each other, though. Voldemort's merciless red eyes glared at him, though there was a rather frightening amusement there.

"Harry, Harry," he sighed. "I wish you would have joined me. We could have been great together, you and I."

Harry shook his head. Voldemort was playing games at the moment, but Harry was not foolish enough to think that it would last. "I would never join you," he snarled. "You killed those I care most about."

Voldemort's laugh echoed throughout the graveyard. Harry shivered and tightened his hold on his wand. "I could do so again, if you'd like. Who do you care most about now?" Voldemort asked, his lipless mouth twisting into something that might have been a smile. Harry felt Voldemort press on his mind, but Harry tightened his Occlumency shields. Voldemort probed for another moment, and then stopped.

"I see," he said quietly. "Severus has been teaching you Occlumency. Well, how about I just ask you who you care most about?" He raised his wand. "_Imperio_!"

Suddenly a dreamy sensation washed over him, as all fears and doubts were erased from his mind. _Just tell me_, a voice whispered inside his mind. _Who do you love? Who would it hurt the most to lose?_

No. A stronger voice came to his mind, and Harry listened. You can't tell him, you know you can't. Stop!

_Come now, Harry, don't be petulant. Just tell me who_...

"NO!" And this time Harry was shouting it.

"No?" Voldemort said, and Harry was struck by a sense of deja-vu. This graveyard, this place, it was all so familiar. Harry shook his head, and could only hope that the others had succeeded in their missions as Voldemort raised his wand to curse him again….

"Come along now," Luna said patiently to the last of the angry stragglers leaving Little Hangleton. "You don't want to be late now."

"I still don't see why the entire town has to leave!" said a rather red-faced man angrily.

"I told you," Ron said, anger bubbling on his face. "The gas leak at the Riddle house has yet to be fixed, and the entire town could blow!" Ron wasn't entirely sure how such a thing could be possible, but decided to stick to the story Hermione had given him. He glanced at Professor McGonagall, who nodded and increased the power on the confusion spell. The man looked a bit dizzy for a moment, and stumbled away. Ron watched him go without regret.

"Is that the last of them?" Kingsley asked Professor McGonagall. She nodded, casting her finding spell again.

"Yes," she said. She raised her wand and the entire village vanished. She staggered a bit after she did so, and Tonks caught her.

"Thank you, Nymphadora," McGonagall said distractedly, and didn't notice Tonks' scowl. She looked around. "Good. Everything but the graveyard is gone. Now…" McGonagall began the procedure of drawing a line around where the town had been, and the graveyard was, making it five miles long and invisible to the Muggle eye. Several Aurors assisted her, and, after about an hour, the five-mile expanse was a ready-made battle ground. After it was done, McGonagall looked exhausted but pleased.

"Now no Muggles will be harmed," she said, and sank to the ground as Madam Pomfrey came over to give her several potions to make sure she was fit for the day's battle.

The silence was strained as Severus stood beside Remus, hand clenched around his wand, watching the many werewolves Remus had gathered. They were all in human form now, but nonetheless, Severus had not forgotten that he had almost died at a werewolf's hands—er, claws.

There were twenty-three werewolves in all, and they would be a valuable asset in the fight. Though it was not the full moon yet, Severus had developed a potion which would allow them to transform before they were supposed to. It was quite ingenious, if he did say so himself. He had figured it out due to a slight alteration made to the Wolfsbane Potion, which all the werewolves were taking too. Since Severus knew that the Dark Lord may be using werewolves also, the wolves that were on their side would be spelled to be red and gold. Though Severus rather resented these colors, he knew that there was precious little he could do about it. Though Lupin was staying in human form, it was still rather—okay, _extremely_ unnerving to watch twenty-three werewolves transform before his eyes.

Severus had to bite back a smirk as he saw how ridiculous the wolves looked with red and gold coloring. He didn't want to aggravate them. After they were all turned, they rose as one and followed Remus and Severus to the battlefield.

Hermione waited in Professor McGonagall's office, watching the flames in the fireplace flicker, and turn green. A moment later, Professor McGonagall stepped out smartly, brushing soot from her hat. She greeted Hermione with a nod.

"Are they ready, Ms. Granger?" McGonagall asked, leading the way down the stairs.

"I believe they are," Hermione said firmly. "They're scared, of course, but I think that they're ready. I think that the age limit you set was a good idea."

"Of course!" The Headmistress looked scandalized. "I would never allow anyone younger than seventeen to participate in this battle." Hermione shrugged.

"Well, I could name plenty of fifteen and sixteen year olds who would disagree with your point of view," Hermione said, a small smile lighting her face.

Professor McGonagall laughed, and they entered the Great Hall. Inside of it, no less than four hundred seventeen year olds and their parents and Aurors were preparing for the battle ahead. Many looked scared, some merely slightly apprehensive, but there were quite a few that were simply excited. Professor McGonagall clapped her hands, and everyone snapped to attention.

"We leave for battle in ten minutes. For any who may have forgotten, we enter from the south, while the werewolves attack from the east, Harry and the others from the North, and the giant-fighters Hagrid was able to collect will be circling around the battlefield, stopping the giants from crushing us all. I have already put up a protective barrier against giants, but it will be good to have giant fighters protecting us."

"Professor?" Hannah Abbot, whose mother had died at the hands of Death Eaters, spoke up bravely. "Aren't we leaving the west side unprotected?"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Now that's where Harry's plan becomes truly brilliant…."

"Come on up, now, Buckbeak—erm, Witherwings," Hagrid said grumpily. Of all the hippogriffs, it was Buckbe—_Witherwings_ who was proving the most difficult. Perhaps because he was the most intelligent one there, the only one who had a slight idea of what was coming.

"'Agrid?" Olympe wandered towards him, eyeing Witherwings nervously. "Per'aps we should just…leave dis one 'ere."

"No," Hagrid growled. "Buckbeak—Witherwings is my best flier. We can't jus' leave 'im here!" With a final tug on his leash, Witherwings began to move reluctantly forward.

"Finally!" Hagrid pushed Witherwings towards the last, rather apprehensive, Order member assigned to fly the hippogriffs and thestrals in from the west. Only those who could see the thestrals were allowed to fly them, and they would be a great help in fighting Death Eaters. Hagrid smiled at Madame Maxime. He had gone through a crash course in dueling and been given a new wand in order to fight in the battle. His pronunciation was still a bit off, but he was now decent. And of course the fact that he could crush skulls with his bare hands was a bit of a help too.

Hagrid clambered upon one of Madame Maxime's flying horses, and felt like quite the prince, sitting right next to his beautiful princess, on enormous matching flying horses. Hagrid look around, making sure that everyone was on their respective hippogriffs or thestrals, and gave a loud whistle. The hippogriffs and thestrals thrust into the air with amazing speed and agility. They were off.

Hope bloomed in Harry's chest as he spotted Hagrid's hippogriff and thestrals army coming in from the west. He looked around and saw, in the distance, McGonagall and Hermione coming in from the south, and Remus, Severus, and the werewolves advancing from the north. Unfortunately, Voldemort saw all of this too, and his smug look faded slightly. He snarled at Harry.

"Do you think that I did not come prepared, Potter?!" he shouted, and there were booms in the distance, surely a sign of the giants. More Death Eaters Apparated out of the midst, and Harry's army flew and ran to meet them. Soon, everyone was in battle. Harry and Voldemort had separated, and Harry flew into a fight with Nott. Nott sneered and laughed at him.

"_Crucio_!" he cried, mad glee spreading over his face.

Harry rolled out of the way, dodging the curse. "_Sectumsempra_!" Harry snarled, and Nott, who had mistakenly thought Harry had been hit by the Cruciatus Curse, received the full blow of Sectumsempra. His face went white as the invisible sword slashed his chest and cheeks, and his wand fell from his hand. Harry was reminded forcibly of when he had accidentally cursed Draco in the same way when they were sixteen. Harry forced the thought from his mind and finished the job. Within seconds Nott lay dead at his feet.

Harry looked around, but all he could see was blood everywhere. Curses were flying, and people were screaming in agony. Death Eaters, Order members, their screams all sounded the same to Harry's ears. He shook his head, falling into fight with another Death Eater. Now was not the time to be sentimental. Doing so could cost the lives of those he loved. Now was the time to fight.

Hermione flew around the Death Eaters in an odd sort of dance, Severus right behind her. Without even talking about it, they had developed a system. She would weaken or disarm the Death Eaters when she could, leaving them for Severus to finish off. She would have almost been enjoying herself, were it not for the screams she could still hear echoing within her very soul.

Hermione disarmed a pockmarked Death Eater by the name of Rookwood, and looked about the battlefield. It was difficult to tell what was happening, for there were blood and bodies everywhere, but from what she could tell, their side was winning. A small smile almost touched her face, and then she saw Ginny fall.

Ginny had been battling Avery, dancing around him the way she herself had been doing so with other Death Eaters, when he caught her with Expelliarmus. Even as Hermione rushed forward to save her dear friend, Avery brought up his wand and hit Ginny with Sectumsempra. Ginny's cheeks and chest were sliced open, and her eyes widened in surprise as she fell to her knees. Avery raised his wand to mutter the final killing curse, when a rage and desperation such as Hermione had never known swept over her.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" she screamed, throwing all of her hatred and rage into that one curse. Avery was blown to bits. Hermione skidded to a halt beside Ginny and wrapped her arms around her as she Apparated to Madam Pomfrey, calling out to Severus, who she knew could cure Ginny. She set her down on a bed and Severus appeared beside her a moment later. Severus took one look at Ginny and began murmuring the healing spell which was most effective against Sectumsempra. Hermione was shaking hard as she watched her friend, wondering indeed if she would survive.

Ron did not see his sister fall. While his sister was dying, he was holding his brother Percy in his arms. In the end, Percy had agreed to fight for the Aurors and the Order against Lord Voldemort. He and Ron had been fighting near each other, and as a consequence, Ron had seen him fall seconds after Bellatrix Lestrange had hit him with Avada Kedavra. Tears rushed down his freckled nose as he held the lifeless form of his often foolish, often stuck-up brother. Despite his idiocy, Percy had still been his brother, and had still loved and cared for him. Cold laughter reached his ears.

"Oh, is the itty-bitty baby sad because his big brother died?" Bellatrix mocked him. "Sob, sob, sob. Here, don't worry, let Auntie Bella take the pain away." And at the moment, all Ron could do was sit there and watch as Bellatrix Lestrange raised her wand to take away his life.

He was not alone, however. Draco had seen Percy fall, and watched as his once dear aunt raised her wand to take away the life of the best friend of the man he loved.

"NO!" he shouted, and Bellatrix whipped around.

"Draco?" she said, eyes widening in astonishment. Then her eyes hardened. "The Dark Lord was wrong about you, it seems. It's too bad, really. You could have been a great ally." She raised her wand to curse him, but Draco was faster.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Draco snarled, and a jet of green light erupted from the end of his wand, and hit his aunt square in the chest. Her eyes widened in an odd sort of horror, and she almost smiled at him as she smashed into the ground, very much so dead. The look on her face was one Draco knew he would never forget. His heart hammering, he rushed over to Ron, yanking him up.

"Can you fight?" Draco asked roughly, but Ron was staring at him in a kind of awed silence.

"You saved my life," he whispered finally.

Draco glared at him. "_Can you fight_?" he asked again.

Ron nodded distractedly. "Yes," he said, and waved his wand. Percy's body vanished, presumably to the tent where they were told to send the bodies. He turned away from Draco and leapt into battle with another Death Eater. Draco shook his head and turned back to the fight.

Harry saw Draco save Ron's life, and felt an incomprehensible happiness erupt within him. A small smile lit his face, and then he looked around, and saw something which managed to increase both his happiness and his apprehension tenfold.

Voldemort's huge snake, Nagini, was wandering among the battlefield, lapping up the spilt blood. Harry felt a sort of sick horror erupt within him as he watched this, and muttered a spell to determine if the snake was a Horcrux. The snake glowed a bright, bright red a moment later, and Harry felt a great sense of triumph. He performed a spell to see what protections the Horcrux had on it, and saw that there was nothing there. Surprise lit his features, but he knew that Voldemort was probably counting on all the rest of his Horcruxes, and perhaps not too worried about this one Horcrux.

_Well, he's got another think coming_, Harry thought, and dove towards the snake, aiming his wand in an Avada Kedavra at the snake, which merely glanced at him. Harry blinked, annoyance coloring his features.

"If at first you don't succeed," Harry muttered, and cursed the snake again, who hissed at him and rose up, diving at him in fury, poison glittering on its fangs. Harry shot Avada Kedavra at it again, rather confused as it just looked a bit weakened. He'd always thought Avada Kedavra meant that the creature would die immediately. Not, apparently, Nagini. In all, it took twenty-three Avada Kedavras to finally kill the snake. Harry almost collapsed in relief as the snake finally slumped forward, and a red, mutilated _thing_ flew away from its dead body.

He looked around, and saw that the battle was winding down. It seemed that their side would actually win. Harry laughed in relief, a laugh that got caught in his throat as he saw Draco in combat with another Death Eater. The Death Eater fired Avada Kedavra at Draco when he wasn't looking, and Harry cried out in horror, just in time for Draco to dodge the curse, and fire it back at the Death Eater, who fell down, dead. Relieved, Harry looked around and began to battle some of the last Death Eaters.

Unbeknownst to him, Voldemort had seen the terror on Harry's face at the prospect of Draco dying. A cruel, evil smile lit his face as he swept over to the Malfoy boy, who was finishing off one of the last of the Death Eaters. At this point, Voldemort knew he had lost at the moment, and it would take years to rebuild his armies. However, he had time, and five Horcruxes. He knew the diary was destroyed, but he didn't know about Nagini or any of the others. In the meantime, he would make sure he hurt Harry Potter as much as Potter had hurt him.

Harry only saw what happened out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around has he saw Voldemort advance upon Draco. They exchanged words, and Voldemort raised his wand. Before he could do anything, Draco was hit with the Cruciatus curse. His screams tore through to Harry's heart, and it was the worst thing he had ever heard. He dove towards them, and Voldemort raised his wand, aiming straight for Draco.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry didn't pause to think, to worry. He simply reacted, and dove in front of Draco as the curse was about to reach him. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's form, still shaking from the Cruciatus Curse, and felt the Killing Curse slam into his back.

"Draco, Draco," a chilling voice spoke at his back, and Draco's heart practically froze.

He turned to face his former Lord. "Voldemort," he said politely, and the Dark Lord sneered at him.

"You aren't afraid of me anymore? Draco, there was a time when you would have curse anyone who used my name so rudely. Perhaps I shall have to remind you why you should be afraid?"

Before Draco could even raise his wand, he was being hit with the Cruciatus Curse. He fell back, pain erupting all over his body, destroying him. His eyes were being burned away, surely, his guts eviscerated, his skin torn apart…oh, Merlin, let it end!

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Voldemort was laughing, he could tell. Through a foggy haze of pain, Draco saw Voldemort raising his wand again. It was in that moment that he knew he would die. He saw Voldemort speak the words of the curse, but he couldn't hear anything. And nothing mattered anyway. He would never get to see Harry again….

It was as he was thinking this that he saw the green light hurtling towards him. Draco faced it without closing his eyes, wishing he had the strength to stand and meet death on his feet. But then…something was in front of him. And a warm body was wrapping itself around his trembling form. A half-second later the killing curse hit his back instead of Draco's.

Horror filled his eyes as he sat up, still shaking, and saw Harry's body fall into his lap. Harry's lifeless, dead body, beautiful green eyes closed.

No, no it wasn't supposed to end this way. No, no, no. Draco clutched Harry's body to him, tears slipping from his eyes without his knowledge. No, no, no. It wasn't…it _couldn't_ be.

Somewhere his brain dimly registered Voldemort laughing. He looked up, staring into Voldemort's pitiless red eyes. "Oh, Draco, I love the paradox of it all! I know you know about my Horcruxes. Would you like the truth? Harry was the last Horcrux I made! Now he's dead. And so is my Horcrux, but so is any chance that I will be defeated!" Voldemort laughed insanely, and Draco looked down. It didn't matter. He didn't care. None of it mattered.

"Well, might as well get rid of the both of you," Voldemort sneered cruelly. Draco just stared at him. He couldn't have risen even if he'd cared to. So he merely watched as Voldemort raised his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The spell flew towards Draco, and all thoughts had vanished from his mind. Moments later, the curse hit Draco hard.

The world exploded.

**A/N:** Oh, good. I managed to make this chapter nice and long. Now, don't y'all dare ask me to give anything away. You'll just have to find out in the next chapter! Lol. So, you know, reviews are always a LOVELY thing. And you all don't get to find out what happens next until I get my ten reviews, and this time I mean it! I haven't yet written the chapter, and I have AP classes, so I won't write the chapter unless I have good freaking incentive to do so. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	21. The Sacrifice

**A/N:** Okay, well, here's the next fabulous chapter! Lol. I've received four reviews so far, and I've decided to start writing the next chapter. But it won't get posted until I receive ten! Okay, well, here's hoping y'all enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

'"…_You have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!"_

_"Of course I haven't!" said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!"_

_"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dumbledore loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your heart's desire, and it showed you only a way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in that mirror? Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not!"'_—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, chapter 23, page 511, paragraphs 2&3.

'"_His mother died in the attempt to save him—and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen_…._I could not touch the boy."_

_"_..._His mother left upon him traces of her sacrifice_…._This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it_..."

_"_…._I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself."_(Voldemort)—Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter 33, page 652 and 653, paragraphs 8, 10, 1, and 3.

**Warning: More character death. Sorry. **

**Chapter 21**

**The Sacrifice**

**Normal POV**

An explosion shook the ground. Hermione could feel it, even all the way out in the medi-tent. She looked away from Ginny and towards the battle grounds. Everyone was wavering on their feet. She looked towards the source of the explosion, shielding her eyes from the blinding light. She glanced at Severus, who nodded, and she Apparated back to the battle field, close to the blinding light.

Severus turned back to Ginny, and murmured the healing spell again, but it wasn't taking. His heart sank as he saw how much blood she was losing. This could not be good. He knew that the only reason Draco had survived Sectumsempra had been because Harry hadn't a clue how to cast it properly. Avery had had years of experience with it. Severus beckoned Madam Pomfrey over.

"Oh, dear," she gasped, and quickly began trying to heal the wounds, but her spells wouldn't take. "This is deep, Dark magic," she sighed. "I'm afraid I can't heal her." Severus bowed his head, and tried his healing spell again, but it wouldn't take. He checked her pulse, and it was fading. Her eyes cracked open.

"Did we win?" she whispered weakly. At her words his heart broke, and he spoke in a softer voice than he believed he ever had before.

"Yes," he said gently. "I think we did."

"Good," Ginny sighed. "That's good." Her eyes slid closed again, and she died. Severus swallowed thickly, and slid a sheet over her broken body. Raising his head, he walked out to the battle field again.

Draco saw the curse coming, but knew he was in no position, mentally or physically, to get away from it. So he just watched bleakly, clutching his dead fiancé's body to his. The curse slammed into him, but, oddly, he felt nothing. He didn't even feel the curse connect.

Suddenly, the world began to shake. Voldemort looked around in terror, and Draco wondered why he wasn't dead yet.

And then, the most remarkable thing happened. The world began to split open. It started with a crack, and then two, and suddenly light was streaming from the earth, and Draco recognized the sounds emanating from it. Phoenix song.

Never in his life had he heard a more beautiful sound. Draco watched, transfixed, as white tendril crept from the earth, weaving in and out of each other, moving towards Voldemort, who was shaking, whiter than ever before. Draco stared at his former Lord in astonishment. He hadn't even known Voldemort _could_ be scared.

The blindingly white vines curled around Voldemort and tore through him. He screamed, a blood-chilling sound, which echoed through out the graveyard. Then the white light pulled something from him, a bloody, mutilated snake, writhing and screeching. Draco knew in that moment that he was looking at what remained of Voldemort's soul.

Voldemort wouldn't be defeated so easily though. A moment later Draco felt a cold chill at his back, and, turning, saw the dementors. _All_ of them. Draco clutched Harry's body a bit closer, and huddled away from them, but they ignored him. Draco realized that he was probably living the worst time of his life right then. They could do little else to make his life worse. They surrounded Voldemort, and tried to pry him away from the white light, but more tendrils came flooding from the earth, and they consumed the dementors. Draco realized that was he was looking at was probably what the Patronus was made of. But the light didn't drive them away. It didn't _let_ them get away. It destroyed every last one of them, and Draco watched in amazement as souls flew away from the dementors. It was probably, he realized, the souls of all those who had received a Dementor's Kiss. A moment later, all evidence that dementors had ever existed on this earth was gone.

Draco looked at the white light engulfing Voldemort with new respect. In less than two minutes it had managed to destroy one of the worst magical species that existed. Draco watched in rapt attention as the white light—love, perhaps, ripped Voldemort's soul away from him and penetrated it from the inside out, until it was destroyed. Voldemort's body stood there, red eyes widened, cruel, twisted face shocked. The light went through Voldemort's body, and pulled him down into the earth. And then the light turned towards Draco.

Hermione watched in astonishment as the dementors and Voldemort were successively destroyed. She sank to her knees, tears pooling in her eyes, and jumped to her feet as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She relaxed when she saw that it was Ron.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Ron said, and she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears too. She nodded, and he sighed. "Draco saved my life," he said softly. "After Percy was killed—"

"Percy's dead?" Hermione said sharply, and he nodded.

"After he died, Bellatrix Lestrange tried to kill me, but Draco killed her first." Ron bowed his head. "I owe him my life."

Severus swept up to them, and Hermione turned to him, about to demand how Ginny was. But the words died on her lips when she saw his face, and she knew in that instant that Ginny was dead.

"Severus…" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said gently, and hugged her tightly. Ron's mouth went slack.

"What's wrong?" he said, heart pounding.

"It's Ginny," Hermione said through her tears.

"No…" Ron whispered. "Please…no."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, reaching out to him. "She died bravely."

Ron fell to his knees, tears dripping down his nose, and she wrapped her arms around his shaking form. Severus felt a great deal of pity in his heart, but his eyes widened as he glanced past them.

"Look!" he cried, and they turned around, gasping in astonishment at what they saw.

Draco shook as he saw the white light curl together, and form into that of a woman figure, though she was made entirely of white light. She knelt down beside him, and stroked his face.

"The balance has been restored," she said, and her voice seemed to echo. It was deep, and sounded as if it was made up of hundreds of different voices, perhaps every voice that ever was. "Long ago a young woman gave up her life to save her child from evil. Now the child has grown up, and given his life to protect his love from the same evil, and managed to destroy it at last. Through love, evil has been defeated."

Tears ran down Draco's face, falling onto said 'child'. She smiled sadly, and spoke again. "You have gone through much, dear Draco, and have found redemption from that evil which sought to claim you. So has Harry. Now, we give him back to you, to honor his sacrifice."

Draco's eyes widened. "What do you—" But his voice faded as he saw more light tendrils come from the earth. But they were carrying something. A sleeping red and gold lion cub, with green and silver lining his fur was nestled in their grasp. Never had those colors been more beautiful to Draco, as he understood at last that he was gazing at Harry's soul.

The light deposited Harry's soul gently into his body, and entered his body with the soul. Draco realized that they were regenerating his body, as they left a moment later. Draco felt as if his heart might surely stop when Harry grew warm in his arms, and started breathing again. He looked up at the woman in astonishment and gratitude.

"Thank you," he breathed. She smiled.

"You're welcome," she whispered, and stood up, and began walking away.

"Wait!" he called. He couldn't let her go like this. "What are you?"

She paused, her head turned towards him slightly. Then her eyes met his as she turned all the way around, and Draco saw that her eyes weren't white. They were rainbow.

"I am love," she said. "All love. I am all that is good and pure in this world. I am what Light magic was created from."

Draco nodded, as he understood. "Is our love a part of you?" he asked tentatively. Her gaze softened, though he wasn't sure how it could get any gentler.

"Every love is a part of us. A child's love for a parent, friendship love, love between a man and a woman, and yes, love between two men, and two women. All love, which is truly love, is good, and pure. No matter what."

Draco swallowed. "Good," he said. "That's good."

She smiled at him, a blinding smile. "Farewell, Draco."

"Goodbye," he whispered, and she dissolved into her tendrils again, which sank back into the earth, and closed.

**A/N:** Short chapter, but it seemed good to end it there. Thanks for the eleven reviews, y'all! Next chapter, sadness and death tolls, but also hope. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	22. Pandora's Box

**A/N:** Second to last chapter. Damn. I can't believe this story is almost over! WAH! Lol. Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

'"_Well…yes and no…" said Dumbledore. "But am I to take it then, that nobody has been murdered?"_

_"Someone's dead," said Malfoy_...

_…Harry's heart thundered unheard in his invisible chest_…._Someone was dead_…._Malfoy had stepped over the body…but who was it?_'—Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, chapter twenty-seven, pages 590-591, paragraphs 7, 8, and 1.

**Warning: Mention of character death.**

**Chapter 22**

**Pandora's Box**

**Normal POV**

The last thing Harry remembered was jumping in front of Draco to save him from the curse that was coming. He felt the green light hit him, as it had sixteen years before. After that there was darkness. He was surrounded in darkness. And then….

Harry was aware of something pulling him out of the darkness, and depositing him in a warm body. He stirred, and heard the sweetest sound ever. Draco's voice.

"Good," Harry heard Draco saying. "That's good."

The voice that spoke next sounded almost ethereal. "Farewell, Draco." It was a woman's voice. Harry cracked his eyes open in time to catch a glimpse of her. She seemed to be made up entirely of beautiful white light.

"Goodbye," Draco whispered. She smiled down at him, and cast a small smile at Harry, before dissolving into hundreds of white tendrils, which sank into the cracked earth. Harry watched in amazement as the earth shuddered and closed. He blinked a few times and looked up at Draco.

"Draco," he whispered. Draco's gaze shot to him.

"Harry?" he gasped. "Oh, Merlin, I'm so glad you're okay."

Harry sat up and shook his head, blinking a few more times. "What happened?" he asked.

Draco stared at him for a moment, and then burst into hysterical laughter. "What…happened?" he wheezed. "Harry, you have _no _idea."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by shrieking. "Harry, HARRY!"

A second later his face was filled with a mass of bushy hair, and he was being choked by someone's frantic arms. "Hermione?" he said in a strangled voice.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, and Harry felt almost as if she was eleven again, and he was too. He clutched her to him, and spotted Ron behind her. He beckoned to him, and Ron rushed over, and suddenly they were all crying and hugging each other. They pulled away, and Hermione patted her hair, and Ron took some deep breaths. Harry looked to Draco, and saw that he was staring back at him. Harry smiled, and Draco just gazed at him, in what Harry realized was a look of utter love. Harry crawled over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"It's okay," he whispered. "We all made it."

Draco laughed. "Yes, we did."

After that, Severus came over, and Draco began to explain exactly what had happened. By the end, Harry was shaking he was so shocked.

"But…" he began, unsure of what he wanted to ask first. "I thought that no one could come back from the dead."

"I did too," Draco shrugged. "I guess this was a very special case."

Harry grinned, and Hermione looked as if she might start crying again. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Harry, I hate to tell you this, but not everyone we know made it," she whispered.

Harry's blood ran cold. "Who died?"

Hermione shrugged miserably. "I'm not sure who all died yet, but I know a couple of people." She swallowed. "Percy Weasley."

Harry nodded. He wasn't glad Percy was dead, but it didn't surprise him. He was more worried about who Hermione was going to say next. She was hesitating for a reason. "Who else?" he asked, embarrassed that his voice was cracking.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Ginny," she whispered.

Harry felt winded. "What?" he whispered. "She's…dead?"

Hermione nodded. "Avery hit her with Sectumsempra."

Hatred erupted in Harry's veins. "Where is he?" Harry snarled. An odd look crossed Hermione's face.

"I tore him apart," she said softly. "He's far dead."

Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in his knees. "I tried so hard to protect her," he whispered. Hermione sighed.

"I know," she said. "I wish…but I don't think she would have been able to keep herself away from the battlefield."

Harry knew the truth in her words, but he hated it anyway. "All right," he said, and stood up, pulling Draco with him. "Let's go."

Together, the five of them walked across the empty battlefield. All people, dead or alive, had been transported from the battlefield. Blood stained the grounds, and Harry wondered if he'd ever have the courage to return to this place. Maybe, one day.

They reached the medi-tent, and saw Madam Pomfrey and several other Healers rushing around trying to heal the various injuries. He stopped one Auror who was walking through the tent, looking dazed. "Do you know if any Death Eaters made it?" he asked. Slowly the Auror shook her head.

"No," she said. "I think a couple may have run, but the rest were killed. The giants, when they realized how badly the battle was going for their side, ran back to the mountains. I'm not sure what happened to the dementors."

"They were destroyed," Harry said flatly, and moved around her before she could start asking questions.

Luna walked up to him. She looked shaken, and saner than he had ever before seen her. "I saw Ginny," she whispered, and dissolved in to shaking sobs. Ron reached out and wrapped his arms around her, crying also. Harry looked around desperately. Who else had died?

"Harry!" Harry turned at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice. She hurried up to him and hugged him tightly. "I heard how you defeated him," she whispered through her tears. Harry's heart clenched as he realized that she had lost two of her children. He gently pulled away from her.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he said tentatively. "Have you heard about…?"

"I know about Percy and Ginny, if that's your question," she said, and her voice was fierce. "They died fighting Voldemort, and I couldn't ask for a better way to remember my children. Yes, I'm saying his name," she added to Harry's surprised face. "His Death Eaters killed my children. I think I have a right to say his name."

"You do," Harry said. "How're the others?"

"Fred and George are fine, and I'm so proud of them. They simply destroyed every Death Eater foolish enough to come their way. Arthur got knocked out, but he's recovering. Charlie got hit with a pretty nasty hex, but he'll be fine in a couple of weeks. Bill's fine as well." She shook her head. "I just wish…." Tears began to fall from her eyes again, and she sighed. "I should go, Harry." She embraced Ron, Hermione, Luna, and, to everyone's great surprise, Severus and Draco too, and left to go mourn the loss of two of her children.

"Potter." Professor McGonagall had been waiting respectfully for Molly Weasley to leave, and came up to them next.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Quite well, quite well," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "I wanted to congratulate you, Harry, on your victory against Lord Voldemort, and to welcome you back to the world."

Harry laughed. "Well, I wasn't gone that long," he pointed out. She smiled.

"Anyway, Harry, there's nothing you can do here. I suggest you take your fiancé, who, if I understand, was in quite a state when you were dead, and go home. Get a good night's sleep. We'll have more information in the morning."

That sounded like a splendid idea to Harry. He thanked the Headmistress, and she left. Harry turned to the others. "What are the rest of you going to do?" he asked.

"I'd like to take my wife," Severus said, pulling Hermione close to him in a hug, "And my unborn child home. Would you like to come to my home in Spinner's End, Hermione?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, I would. I just need to get my things from Fidelis Cognatio." Severus nodded, and Hermione turned to Harry. "Harry," she whispered. "I'm just so glad that it's finally over." Harry nodded, swallowing, and embraced his old friend. She hugged Ron, Draco and Luna, and then Apparated away with her husband.

"What about you two?" Harry asked Ron and Luna. Ron shrugged.

"I guess I'll come back to Fidelis Cognatio with you and Draco," he said, and glanced at Luna. "Luna? Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, its fine," she said. She seemed to have partially recovered from the shock of battle, and already seemed half-insane again. Harry grinned, and the four of them left to go to his house.

Harry walked up the stairs with Draco, who was clutching his hand as if he never wanted to let it go. They separated from Luna and Ron at the top of the stairs, and went to their room. Upon first entering the house they had been received by a frantic Dimply, who had to be calmed down by Arilial. Harry smiled, remembering how worried she had been about the four of them.

When they reached their room, Harry flopped down onto his bed, exhaustion filling him, but also a sense of amazing elation.

"It's over," he whispered. "I never have to worry about Voldemort again. It's finally all over."

Draco sank down next to him, and curled up into a fetal position. "Merlin, you're right," he said softly. "It's finally all over." He glanced at Harry and smiled, stretching out next to him. "What do you want to do?"

"Take a shower," Harry laughed. "And then…I dunno."

"Still want to be an Auror?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry groaned.

"Merlin, no. At least, not right now. I think I want to finish my schooling first," Harry said decidedly.

Draco nodded. "That's a good idea. I mean, you have your whole life to decide what to do with it, now."

Harry smiled lazily. "I think I could sleep for a million years," he laughed.

Draco laughed as well, and gave Harry an impish grin.

"So," he said. "How about that shower you were talking about?"

"23 dead," Professor McGonagall said. Everyone in the room seemed to sigh together.

They were all assembled in Headmistress McGonagall's office. It was odd being in there without Dumbledore, but somehow, she had managed to make the place her own. It didn't remind Harry too horridly of Dumbledore. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Severus, Harry, Draco, and the rest of the remaining Order of the Phoenix had come together in her office for one last meeting.

"But that's just our people," McGonagall corrected herself. "123 Death Eaters were killed as well."

No one else Harry knew had died, except for Kingsley Shacklebolt. The rest he hadn't known.

"I'd say we did pretty damn well," Alastor Moody growled. He had attained a few more scars, and said how please he was to see the end of the war.

"Yes, Alastor, I would say that we did," McGonagall said, smiling. "And I think we owe it all to Harry's excellent planning." She applauded him, and Harry flushed.

"I just planned it, it was the rest of you who followed through," Harry said firmly. They grinned at him.

"So what do we do now?" Lupin asked. "Are we going to open the school again?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, "But not until next September. And I want you to come back as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Me?" Lupin flushed. "I don't think…."

"Do you honestly think that any parent will protest, especially considering the crucial role werewolves played in defeating Voldemort?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply.

Lupin shook his head, unable to make the growing smile on his face fade.

"Now," Professor McGonagall said, assuming a businesslike stance. "What will happen to the Order?"

"It will dissolve, won't it?" Bill Weasley spoke up. It was remarkable what Madam Pomfrey had been able to do with his face. He still had a few deep scars, but he was actually good-looking again, in a rough kind of way.

"I suppose," McGonagall said reluctantly. She looked around. "Is that what you all want?"

They glanced around at each other, and Harry said, "Well, what would we do now? Voldemort's gone, and isn't that why the Order was created?"

"That's true," Tonks said. "Without Voldemort or any Death Eaters to fight, what point would we have in staying together?"

"What if another Dark Lord rises?" Ron asked, frowning. "I mean, Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, but after he was dead another one rose up to take his place."

"Yes…" Professor McGonagall said. She leaned back in her chair, thinking. "How about this? We won't completely dissolve, but we won't have any official meetings. If another Dark Lord rises, we'll be loyal to each other, but until then…."

"I think that's a good idea," Severus said.

After that was agreed, they all left her office, some flooing away, others walking out of the office. Luna and Ron had agreed the night before that they should go stay at their separate houses, so Luna left with her father, who had also been present at the meeting, and Ron planned to leave with his parents.

"Keep in touch, mate," Ron said, embracing Harry. Harry hugged him back.

"I will," he said. "We should all get together for the Easter holidays, and then we'll go back to school together for one more year."

"When are you and Draco getting married, anyway?" Ron asked him. Harry shrugged.

"After we both have steady jobs, I expect," Harry told him. "But you're all invited," he added to Hermione, Luna, and Severus. "You as well, Professor." Professor McGonagall smiled graciously, and he turned to Hermione, hugging her as well.

"I want updates on the baby," Harry told her firmly when she pulled away. She laughed, assuring him that she would keep him up to date on the changes. She hugged Draco back, promising that they would get together for lunch sometime. Ron and Draco tried to hug, but ended up shaking hands instead, which was more than Harry ever thought they would get around to.

Harry pulled Severus aside. "Treat Hermione well, okay?" he said in a low voice.

"Of course," Severus said, looking surprised. Harry grinned.

"Good," he said. "By the way, are you going to go back to being Potions Master at Hogwarts?"

"Yes…." Severus said warily.

"Well, how exactly do you plan on grading your wife's papers?" Harry asked, honestly curious.

"Hmm…" Severus frowned. "I'm not quite sure. I'll try and be as unbiased as possible, I guess."

Harry nodded. "One more thing. I read somewhere about a potion that would allow two men to have biological children."

Severus' eyes widened. "I've heard of that!" he said. "It's supposed to be astonishingly difficult, though."

"Well, one day I'm going to want to have children," Harry said. "And I was hoping that you might help me and Draco achieve that."

Severus smiled. "I would be honored to do so," he said, and Harry smiled at him warmly.

Taking Draco's hand, he threw floo powder into the fire, which instantly turned a shining green. "Fidelis Cognatio!" he called, and walked through the fire. The ride was as unpleasant as ever, but also as short. A few moments later, he was standing in the large living room of his and Draco's home.

A man was waiting there, some official-looking documents in his hands. When Draco walked out of the fire, the man walked over to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy," the man's tone was formal. "I have come to tell you that the Malfoy properties, which were formally possessed by the Ministry of Magic, have been returned to you, as you have been declared innocent of all charges previously against you. Malfoy Manor, which expands over 300 acres, and the Malfoy vault, which contains a sum of 4.3 million galleons, is returned to you. Good day." The man handed him the papers and Apparated away.

"Merlin," Draco whispered, staring down at the formal papers which declared him the sole owner of all Malfoy properties. "I never knew that we had that much money."

Harry grinned, but felt slightly worried. "Are you going to go stay at your house now?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Draco shook his head. "I'd rather stay here," he said honestly. "I'm just not sure how exactly we're going to deal with having two homes. I can't sell the place; it's been in my family for ten generations. And I don't want to sell my childhood home."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe we could summer here and winter there."

Draco laughed. "That would be interesting," he said. "Maybe. Come on; let me show you the place."

Draco took his arm and side-along Apparated with him, since Harry had never been to Malfoy Manor before. They appeared outside of the manor, amidst the melting snow. It rather resembled a castle, Harry observed. While it wasn't quite as large as Hogwarts, it was definitely as large if not larger than Fidelis Cognatio.

The Manor had a large frozen lake beside it, and gardens off to the side. It was made up of stone, and looked in pretty good shape to be centuries old. They walked through the doors, and Harry was unsurprised by what he saw. There was a large, winding staircase with blue carpeting and marble handrails. The floor was stone, and the staircase came down two ways around a door, which led to the dining room, a very large dining room. Upstairs there were several libraries, studies and bedrooms. In all there were four stories, and the top floor was essentially a very well-kept attic. The gardens were frozen through, but Draco promised to show them to Harry in the summertime, for they were beautiful. The whole place was full of portraits of men and women, presumably Draco's ancestors. The many bathrooms were splendid, and rather reminded Harry of the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. The place was very different from Fidelis Cognatio, colder, but it had its qualities too. Harry figured that it would be a good place for their children, when they grew older. A neat place to explore. Harry was worried about some things, though.

He and Draco sat down on a couch in the dining room and Harry laid out his concerns.

"How will we keep our kids from being spoiled?" Harry asked Draco, who shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll just have to have the Weasleys around a lot," he grinned, and then grew serious. "Well, one problem with my life was that I never saw anyone else, and I never realized that not everyone in the world was rich, like me. We could make our kids do community service, and not give them a lot of money to begin with. We'll teach them to do the dishes manually, and take out the trash, clean their rooms, things like that. Make them get jobs in the summer when they come home from Hogwarts, things like that."

Harry nodded. "That seems reasonable, I suppose."

After all was settled, they flooed back to Fidelis Cognatio. Harry looked around, and sighed in contentment. He glanced at Draco, and saw in his face the years to come, and the children. He reached out and touched Draco's arm. Draco glanced at him, a smile curving his face, new beauty shining in his eyes.

"Welcome home."

**A/N:** This chapter was rather difficult to write, but I don't think I did too badly. Anyway, one last chapter. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	23. Life Goes On

**A/N:** Wow. This is the last chapter of New Beauty. I've only done this once before, and, well, let's just say I'm not especially good at it. Okay, dedications, dedications. First, to **Riku-Rocks**, who has basically stuck with me throughout this fic. Next, **kasmo**, who came back to me after going away for a while. Lol. Also, **Jess&Jenn**, I hope y'all will review again, because I loved your reviews! **Lady Bit**, also, who has reviewed a lot. Also **LandUnderWave**, who recently started reviewing every chapter, which I appreciate. Lol. I would like to thank **caz-felton-malfoy** as well, since s/he stuck with me through 'Just Like You' too. ** Death-of-Tomorrow** deserves thanks also, for stick with me. **Peaceful Angel** has also reviewed a lot, which is awesome. Also to **Alhena-Antares-Alya** who recently started reviewing a lot.A shout-out to my friends who reviewed as well, **UnSerious Sirius** aka **Grim Lupine, Draco Malfoy-Potter, Triola**, and, of course, **She Wolf**. Note to all budding writers: Never give your mother the name of your account. Lol. Thanks to all my lovely reviewers who I missed! Enjoy the final chapter! Adios!

-CatJetRat

'_Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other_…._"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't' hear him._

_"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.'_—Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, chapter 11, pages 191&193, paragraphs 9, and 8 and 9.

**Chapter 23**

**Life Goes On**

**Epilogue**

**20 Years Later**

**Normal POV**

"Come _on_, slowpokes!" Flame Malfoy-Potter hissed at his friends, Alex and Dexter Weasley, and Sobria Granger-Snape. Flame's real name was Flammaxilian, after some old great grandfather of one of his dad's. He had complained about the name so much when he was younger that finally his dad, much to the discontentment of his father, gave him his nickname, Flame.

The others hurried on behind him, and together, they crept towards Knockturn Alley. At fourteen years old, they had been trying to get into Knockturn Alley since they were all eight. Alex Weasley had been the first to suggest it. Bright and mischievious, she was the opposite of Sobria, who had been firmly set against this mission from the beginning. But the two of them were best friends, since birth, practically. Dexter was best friends with Flame, and they had been best friends for a long time. At six years old, the four of them had joined forces against Acuo Granger-Snape, the oldest and only other child of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. He was pompous and upright, always scolding any and all of them for doing the slightest thing. Harry had once muttered something about him being like a 'Percy Weasley', but Flame wasn't sure what that meant. Speaking of Acuo….

"Duck!" Alex hissed, dragging them behind a building, just as Acuo walked by with his girlfriend, who, if it was possible, was even more uptight than he was.

They waited until Acuo and his girlfriend were fully out of sight before creeping down the Alley. Ever since Lord Voldemort had been defeated twenty years before, most of the Dark Arts were kept hidden in this Alley. The Ministry had done several purges, with Remus Lupin at the head of them, but the Dark Arts were kept well-hidden.

"Look!" Dexter pointed gleefully at Borgin & Burkes, an infamous store. Both original owners were dead, but their children, who were supposedly as greasy as their parents, carried on the family business.

They walked towards the store and pressed their faces up against the glass. "Cool," Sobria murmured, and flushed red when everyone looked at her. "What?" she said defensively. "It is."

"There might be hope for you yet, Bri," Alex grinned at her, and Sobria blushed harder than ever.

"Right," she stammered. "I think we've seen enough. We should—" she was cut off as someone clapped a hand on her shoulder, and she screamed.

After the war was over, Hermione had her baby, and named it Acuo. He had Snape's hair, and Hermione's intelligence. Sadly enough, he had Percy's personality. Six years later, she and Severus had one more child, their last child, named Sobria, who had soft brown hair and piercing black eyes. She was intelligent and beautiful, with a knack for potions and an inclination towards rule-abiding which Alex would spend much time trying to cure her of.

Harry and Draco finished school, and went on to their careers. Draco became interested in medicine, and decided to become a Healer. Harry tried his hand at professional Quidditch for a bit, before becoming an Auror. They married each other at nineteen. At twenty years old, they had their first child, with Severus' and named him Calvin. He looked a lot like Draco, except that his eyes were green instead of silver, and he acted more like Harry, following in his footsteps and becoming a Gryffindor. Now he was almost eighteen.

After Calvin they waited a bit, and then had Valesca. With long black hair and Draco's fine, aristocratic features, she was a great beauty. Her eyes had turned out hazel, like James', but had sparkles of silver in them, which, while a rather odd thing to look at, was very beautiful. She behaved rather like Draco, and went into Slytherin. She was sixteen.

After about a year, Harry and Draco decided to have another child. His name was Flame. He was the strangest-looking of their children. His hair was white-blond, like Draco's, but had the texture of Harry's hair. He behaved like Harry, and proved just as good at Quidditch. He went into Gryffindor, though, like Harry, he had to argue with the hat to not put him in Slytherin. His eyes were the oddest part of him, though. One was bright green, and one was silver. But that wasn't the strangest part. They switched sides. One day, his left eye would be green, and then the next, it would be silver. It was strange, but Flame liked it. Eventually, he figured out that his eyes switched color depending on his mood, though it was very basic. If he was happy, his left eye would turn green. If he was sad or angry, his right eye would be green. No one had figured it out yet, but he though it was rather neat. He was now fourteen

After Flame, Harry and Draco took a break from having kids for a while, about three years, to be exact. But then, they decided that having one more couldn't hurt, and so they created Amabilia. She was, perhaps, the most adorable child that they had yet had. She had beautiful strawberry-blonde hair, courtesy of Lily and Draco, and had Narcissa's blue eyes. When Draco saw them for the first time, he practically cried. She was now ten.

Luna and Ron had been procreative as well. When they were twenty-one, they had their first child, Rupert, who had Luna's strange personality and Ron's appearance and love of the Chudley Cannons. He was seventeen.

After Rupert they had Alexia and Dexter, who were twins. Alex had beautiful, long red hair, rather like Ginny did, and, oddly enough, brown eyes. Dexter had dirty-blond hair and a rough, sexy look, or at least it would be when he got older. He had blue eyes. They were both fourteen.

After that they had Daniel, who had dirty-blond hair also, and blue eyes. He was ten.

Remus and Tonks had one child, Amatrix Lupin, who was sixteen. She had brown hair, amber eyes, the Metamorphmagus ability, and Valesca Malfoy-Potter's heart. She and the oldest daughter of Harry and Draco had been enemies for a while until they fell in love in their fifth year.

Everyone else scattered and married, and in all life was peaceful for all. That is, all except for four rambunctious fourteen-year olds….

Sobria shrieked and jumped a foot in the air, wheeling around. She relaxed slightly when she saw who it was.

"Merlin, Calvin, you scared me," she scolded him. He grinned.

"Sorry, Sobria," he said, though she could just tell he didn't mean a word of it. "What are you four doing down here anyway? Flame, you know dad and father are going to kill you if they catch you down here."

"Whatever," Flame muttered, clearly vexed that he had been caught so soon. Calvin sighed.

"Come on, let's go back to Diagon Alley," Calvin said, and they turned to leave.

"Yes, go back to Diagon Alley, where it's safe."

Flame stiffened instantly at the voice, and his hand went to his wand. Slowly, he turned around.

Darius Pavidan stood there, a sneer adorning his features. He was fourteen years old, like Flame, but the two couldn't have been more different. Darius had dark, smooth hair that fell down over his piercing violet eyes. Sometimes he wore eyeliner to accentuate his eyes, but Flame couldn't insult him on this, since not only were his parents gay, but he too wore eyeliner sometimes.

Darius went to Hogwarts as well, but he was a Slytherin. From the moment the two of them had met, it had been as if fire met gasoline. Darius sneered at him for being short, and it went off from there, Darius insulting his family, him insulting Darius's family, and so on.

"Pavidan," Flame said icily. Pavidan smirked

"Potter," he said.

"_Malfoy_-Potter," Flame growled.

"You're more Potter than you are Malfoy," Pavidan sneered. "A true Malfoy would never let himself or herself be bossed around."

Flame opened his mouth to retort, but Calvin inserted himself firmly in between Pavidan and Flame. "You should go, _now_," Calvin snarled. Pavidan glared, but knew he couldn't take on a seventh-year.

"Fine," he said coolly. "Maybe I'll catch you later, Potter, when your big brother isn't around to protect you. Later." He almost seemed to melt into the shadows.

Flame was shaking with anger. "How could you do that?" he hissed at Calvin, who stared at him incredulously.

"You're welcome, by the way," Calvin said, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

"You embarrassed me!" Flame exclaimed. "In front of my worst enemy! Do you have any idea what kind of leverage he has against me now? Do you?" With that, Flame stormed off in a huff. Calvin glared after him.

"Ungrateful prick," he muttered, and, beckoning to the others, he rushed to catch him.

Unbeknownst to them, a slim figure watched from the shadows, anger striking deep within her heart.

"One day they will not be so easily angered," she vowed. "One day I will defeat those who destroyed the foolish Dark Lord. He was weak, but I am not!" With that, she swept away down the street, muttering to herself.

When Harry and Draco found their children, they scolded them, and took them back to Fidelis Cognatio. No one knew of the impending Dark Lady, and few cared. It would be a while before she would rise, but rise she would, as did Lord Voldemort. It is true, perhaps, that nothing ever ends, and life goes on. There will be love, hope, and pain. Things will differ, but for the Malfoy-Potter family, life was good at the moment. They had bought themselves peace, and earned it. But it all started with the kind heart of one boy, and the proof indeed, that someone can have new beauty.

**A/N:** I'm crying. Literally, tears are dripping down my face. It's over. It's good that it is, but it's sort of astonishing. I hope I ended it well. Thanks for all the people who supported me throughout this stories, through the rough patches and all. I'm so sad. I thought it would be easier to end the second one, but I was wrong. The only comfort is that it feels right to finally end it. It meant much to me, and has been with me for over a year now. But it's over, finally, and I'm glad. It feels right. Now I can expand, and move on to other stories, and hopefully my writing will continue to improve. Thanks, y'all! Love you all. Adios!

-CatJetRat


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